The Red Book
by Dearlady2002
Summary: The sequel to 'Time to Choose.' Dawn struggles to unravel the mystery behind the infamous red book…
1. A life lost, and a life renewed

The Red Book

Started April 15, 2003

Written by Andrea 'Dearlady2002' Brink

***Author's Note: This story is a sequel to "Time to Choose." Please read that story before continuing on with this one!***

Summary: Dawn struggles to unravel the mystery behind her mothers' life, the book that appears to have ties to her death, and the nagging feeling that someone was involved...

****

Disclaimer: *sigh* Same as before- the characters mentioned in _Labyrinth _are not mine. Dawn, Heather, and any new characters _are_ mine, so don't steal them. Ask, and I'll most likely let you borrow them. ^.-

*****

Chapter 1: A life lost, and a life renewed 

Soft moonlight filtered in through the large dining room windows and shone down on the lone figure, faintly outlining a silhouette in the darkness. Though the night sky was teeming with stars, they went unnoticed by tear-blurred eyes. 

She was gone. His beautiful Sarah was gone. 

Tears welled up at the corners of Jareth's eyes and he quickly wiped them away. He'd done enough of that last night. 

Though it had hurt the first time he'd lost her, he had known that she was young, and the hope that he'd see her again had kept him going. He knew where he could find her at any time he chose, and with the help of his crystals, it seemed like she was still a part of his life, if in a remote way. 

But all of that was no more. The woman that he loved had made the heart-wrenching decision to give up her remaining family to stay with him forever, only to then be ripped from his arms by cold, cruel fate. Did the entire universe frown upon his existence so much as to curse him so? To a fate of such dastardly isolation? 

Oh, how he missed her already. Too grief-stricken for any rational thought, he'd held her for hours during the night, kissing her soft cheeks and whispering that he loved her; not believing that she could be gone. 

When he'd finally had some common sense return to him, he knew it would be best if her family found her, rather than go through the shock of finding her missing that morning. Gathering his willpower, he'd resolutely taken Sarah's body back to her home and gently placed her in her bed, positioning her as if she'd been sleeping when she'd passed away. He had given her one last, tear-laden kiss, and reappeared in the dining room at his castle to await sunrise, alone.

He'd kept looking in his crystals all night long, hoping by some slim chance that she would have been all right by returning Aboveground. Every time he looked in one of his crystals, however, she was still in the same position he'd placed her on the bed. Unmoving. 

A knock on the dining room door startled Jareth out of his reflections.

"Come in," he said quietly, without even turning his attention away from the window to see who it was. Every morning and every night for seventy years he'd watched the sun rise and set through these windows. Though the sun was just rising, this morning's display was particularly beautiful, awash with burning magentas and brilliant orange hues. It pained him to think that perhaps the heavens were paying homage to Sarah's mortal life with their fiery display. 

The door moved inward silently on its hinges and his chef and friend, Nicholas, entered the room. 

"M'lord, anything for breakfast?" he asked, apparently not noticing Jareth's subdued demeanor. 

Jareth shook his head once, barely noticeable from across the room. It was then that the man seemed to notice Sarah's absence. He looked down at his feet. 

"So… how did it go?" he asked quietly. 

Jareth pinched his eyes shut and took a deep, ragged breath against the onslaught of pain that question brought. He had hoped that Nicholas would accept his terse reply and leave him, but apparently that was not so. He schooled his features into the indifferent mask he usually wore, and turned to face the chef. 

"If you must know," he spat, allowing annoyance to color his tone, "she refused me. I healed her and sent her home. In exchange she promised not to tell anyone of the Underground." He turned his back to the chef and faced the window, his arms crossed over his chest.

The chef's eyebrows arched in surprise. Sarah didn't seem like she would be the type to blackmail _anyone_ into getting her way, much less the Goblin King. Nicholas knew that Jareth had loved the girl, but evidently she hadn't felt the same for him. Well, give him a few days to sulk and Jareth would be right as rain after that. 

Not knowing what else to do, Nicholas bowed and left, shutting the door behind him. Jareth would call for him when his stomach won out over his stubbornness. 

As soon as he heard the door latch click, Jareth's semblance crumbled. He dug his nails into his palm in frustration and bit his lip to keep from screaming. Gods, but he'd hated doing that, slurring Sarah's personality and memory by twisting the story around. He'd hoped that by making it seem like Sarah had chosen to go home, everyone would back off and let him have his space for a few days. He didn't need anyone's pity, and condolences would only make the pain more acute. A king had to appear strong. If not in private, at least before his subjects. He'd eventually tell Nicholas what happened... just not now.

He took another deep breath and looked down at the valley spread out beneath him, lit by the morning sun. He would have to go on, find a way to make himself continue. He had no heirs, and kingdoms without rulers fell into chaos. 

Heirs…

His mind wandered back to Dawn and Heather, and he wondered what they were like. Did they have Sarah's looks or their father's? Did her shining personality live on in either of them?

Jareth realized now how difficult it had been for Sarah to make a decision. She'd grown to love him in a matter of a day, but she'd spent a whole lifetime with the girls. In the end, her choice to stay was a compromise of her two desires; to give in to Jareth's offer from seventy years ago, and to be able to see her girls, even if it was all an illusion. Under the circumstances, she'd made the best decision she could, but it had just come too late…

He ran a hand back through his hair. He wondered… 

Jareth pulled a crystal out of the air and whispered softly to it. He pushed the window open and the ball lighted off his fingers, floating away on the soft breeze. 

He formed another crystal, and gazing into its depths, waited…

*****

Dawn pulled her robe tighter around her waist and poured herself another glass of coffee. Spooning sugar into her cup, she sat down at the kitchen table to read the paper. 

_Obituaries._

Sighing, she turned the page. She'd had a demanding morning so far, between comforting Heather; who was at the moment upstairs playing with her toys, dealing with the police; whom she'd called when she had found her mother, and the people at the newspaper; whom she'd had to contact with the obituary information. They told her since they legally had to wait for the police report, it would be the next day before Sarah's obituary would be printed. She put the paper down and walked to the base of the stairs. 

"Heather," she called, "come down and eat some cereal." 

Because Dawn had forewarned the girl that her Gramma's health was no longer as good as it used to be, Heather had taken the news better than she thought an eight-year-old would. Still, she was keeping an eye on her. 

Heather came running downstairs, carrying an old stuffed toy in one arm. Dawn had noticed that she'd been carrying it around since the night before, and asked her about it. 

"Oh, this is Didymus," she said, hugging the scruffy fox. "He's in Gramma's story." 

Dawn arched an eyebrow. 

"One Gramma had told you?" she asked as she walked towards the front door. She realized earlier she hadn't gotten the mail yet that morning. 

Heather shook her head. 

"No," she wrinkled her nose and took a bite of her cereal. "One of Gramma's books. Upstairs," she said and pointed. "It's got owls, and monsters, and that magic man, and farting rocks…" she rattled on excitedly. 

Dawn nodded absentmindedly and opened the front door. Heather heard her mom gasp in surprise and came running to the door, abandoning her cereal at the table but not her beloved fox, which she still clutched under one arm. 

"What is it, what is it?" she asked, peering outside around her mother's leg.

Dawn bent down and picked up a large basket, wrapped in a soft green cloth and tied with a dark red ribbon. 

"I don't know," she said, and undid the ribbon. Beneath the cloth was another, thinner layer of material, holding the contents of the basket in. Dawn opened the top and looked inside. It was full of assorted fruits, but mainly oranges, pomegranates, and an avocado or two. 

"What on earth?" she whispered. Who would be sending her a fruit basket? No one knew yet about her mother, and the newspaper wouldn't print anything until the following day…

Heather pointed to a card hanging from the ribbon. "Open it mommy! What's it say?"

Dawn opened the small card and read out loud the fine, silver print to Heather. 

" '_Sarah loved these particular types of fruit, especially the oranges, and I hope you'll accept them as a gift along with my deepest sympathies. Perhaps someday fate will bring us together and I'll have the pleasure of making your acquaintance._

__

_To Heather~ keep practicing your reading, and always believe in the magic of your stories. You never know where they may take you in life._

_Sincerely, _

_An old friend,_

_J._'"

Below the initial was an odd, crescent-like shape, in fact, it was the same shape of the scars that Dawn had found earlier on her mother's hands. Something very strange was going on. 

"Mommy, the man from Gramma's book has a necklace _just_ like that shape." Heather piped up. 

Dawn looked down at her blonde daughter. "Sweetie, can you come show me this book?" The little girl nodded. 

"Do you want to read it?" she asked. Dawn looked at the card again, her eyes quickly scanning over it. 

"Yes…" she answered. "Yes, I do…" 

*****

Jareth smiled slightly and tossed the crystal into the air where it disappeared. He had just set a series of events in place, and he had a lot of planning to do. Though his heart would bear the scar of grief for the rest of his life, he had found a new purpose in life; he had found something to look forward to… 

*****


	2. Snowflakes and doggies

Yea! Chapter 2 is finally ready. I've finished _Layers_, so I should be able to update _TRB_ on a fairly regular basis. And this story is a bit boring, but it introduces people- just stick with this story at least through chapter 3- that's where it starts to get good! Please read and review! 

Andrea

Chapter 2: Snowflakes and doggies

Leaning back with her weight on her palms, Dawn sat on the faded white steps of the front porch, relishing the warm, sunny weather as she waited on the school bus. Since it was a Friday, and unseasonably warm for so early in spring, Dawn decided a trip to the park would be fun for Heather. All she had to do was wait on the bus to drop her off from school. 

She shifted her weight and sat forward, brushing off the paint flakes that stuck to her hands. She sighed. Along with trimming the yard and weeding, painting the house was another job that needed to be done. 

She had inherited the house when her mother had passed away six months earlier, and it was badly in need of some upkeeping. Dawn could not remember the house being painted during her lifetime, and knew it had probably been close to sixty years since it had last been done. As it was, paint chips occasionally rained down like snow into the unwary person's lemonade as they sat on the rocking swing at the other end of the porch. Late fall going into winter hadn't been the time to paint a house, and this was the first nice day of spring; she wasn't about to waste it on chores. 

Movement across the street caught Dawn's attention. She looked over and saw an old man sweeping his sidewalk clean of grass clippings. The 'for sale by owner' sign in the yard was gone, so evidently the house had been sold. He must be the new owner. The man paused in his work to wipe sweat from his brow and looked up. Seeing Dawn, he smiled and waved. 

A bit surprised, she waved back. People in this neighborhood so far had mostly stuck to their own business. She'd moved in six months ago and still didn't know any of the names of her neighbors. If she were checking the mail and the person next door was walking by with their dog, they would nod or say a polite, if clipped, 'hello,' and keep walking. No cheerful 'welcome to the neighborhood!' or even a single 'nice to meet you.' 

Figuring that it might be nice to have at least _one_ neighbor she could name, she waved the man over. As he crossed the street, she got a better look at him. He appeared to be about sixty years old, was tall and somewhat skinny, and had a shock of thick white hair on his head. Dark rimmed glasses perched on his nose. 

"Hello, my name is Dawn," she said, introducing herself when the man crossed the street. Smiling, he shook her hand and nodded. 

"Pleased to meet you. My name is Robinson, but you can call me Rob," he replied, and pushed his glasses back up on his nose. He smiled again at her. "Never could get used to these contraptions," he laughed. "So what's a young lady like yourself doing all alone on the porch?"

She sighed. "Well, I've been waiting for my daughter to get home so we could go to the park. It's so nice out, I thought I'd wait outside." Talking of the warm weather seemed to jog her memory. She looked back at Rob, her eyes wide. "Oh, I'm such a terrible hostess, would you like a glass of lemonade?" she asked, already headed back inside.

"Thank you, I'd love some," he called out after her. While he waited, he looked down and saw she already had a glass for herself sitting on the top stair of the porch, a small red book placed over the top. 

"Doing a bit of reading?" he asked as she came back out onto the porch, and pointed to her glass. Dawn handed him his lemonade and shrugged. 

"Well, sort of. I mean, at the moment I'm not…" She bent down and picked the objects up. "I'm using it as a 'snow' guard." 

Robinson looked confused. "Snow?" 

Dawn nodded. Before she could answer, a slight breeze started up, and a few flakes of paint wafted down from the ceiling. She quickly placed her hand over his glass, nodding. "Snow." She removed her hand when the last had fallen.

"Ah. I see." He took a sip of his lemonade. "So is it any good?" he asked her, nodding towards the small book. 

Dawn shook her head. "No," she lied. 

To all appearances, the simple red book in her hand was nothing more than a child's story, something read to small children at bedtime to calm and relax. But Dawn knew better. Strange things had been going on at this house six months ago, strange things involved with this book, and her mother's death. While she hadn't completely convinced herself that she was simply imagining things, she didn't want to take any chances. 

"Well, I haven't gotten very far, but it's really more of a children's book. My daughter wanted me to read it. She loves fairy-tale things like my mother had." 

Rob caught her unsaid words. "When did she pass away?" he asked softly. 

"About six months ago." She looked back up at him. "I inherited the house from her," more paint flakes scattered down on them, "and haven't had time to fix it up yet."

Robinson nodded. "I lost my wife about a year ago. God rest her soul." They were both silent for a moment, until Rob spoke up again. "Does your daughter like dogs?"

Dawn frowned and wondered where this was leading… Heather had been begging her to get a dog for about a year now, but Dawn didn't have the time to deal with it, and wasn't sure Heather was ready for the responsibility of one yet. "Yes…" she replied slowly.

Robinson laughed. "Don't worry, I am not trying to foist one on you…" He pushed his glasses up on his nose again. "It's just that I've been wondering what to do with my dog, Sam. I took a week off to move, and I go back to work again tomorrow and I don't want to leave him out in the heat all day, but I don't want him leaving messes inside either." Dawn nodded, and he continued. "I'll make you a deal. If you could let my dog outside maybe once or twice a day while I'm gone at work, whenever is convenient for you, I'd be more than happy to help you fix up the house." 

Dawn eyed the man dubiously and he laughed again. "I know what I'm doing, I was a carpenter before I retired from that. Bad knees." 

Well, Dawn thought, Heather hadbeen wanting a dog… this would be a good opportunity to show her how much hard work it is, _and_ get some things accomplished… She held out her hand to the man and he shook it. "It's a deal." 

He smiled. "This must be your daughter's ride," he said and pointed down the street to where the bus was just coming around the corner. It stopped in front of the house and Heather came bounding up the stairs, her backpack and blonde ponytail bouncing with each step. 

"Mommy!" she said, and put down her stuffed animal long enough to give Dawn's thighs a big hug. Robinson squatted down and picked up the animal, inspecting it. 

"Hello, little lady. You must be Heather." She nodded. "My name is Rob. And what is your doggies' name?" he asked, handing it back to her. 

She took the animal from him, without a hint of fear or shyness he was pleased to note, and clutched it to her chest. "Didymus isn't a doggie," she admonished him, as if he should know better. "He's a fox." 

He smiled. "Oh. Many apologies, Didymus," he said to the fox. This child was absolutely adorable. 

Dawn took Heather's backpack and put it in the house. "Would you like to join us at the park, Rob?" 

"We're going to the park?!" Heather exclaimed, jumping up in the air. "Yea!"

Robinson laughed. "I think that is a bit too far for these old bones to walk." 

Dawn looked over at his house. The garage door was open, and it was empty. "Don't you have a car?" she asked. 

Rob shook his head. "Nope. Me and the wife always walked or called a cab to get to where we needed to go. When we did have to drive somewhere, vacations and all, we would rent a car and she drove. I never got my license when I was younger." 

"Well, we'd be more than happy to drive you there. It's not like we are going out of our way," she smiled. 

He shook his head. "I would love to join you, however, I'm afraid not today." He drained the rest of his lemonade and handed her back the empty glass. "I have a few things I still must do before tomorrow for work. Perhaps another day, though," he said, and started heading for his house. "And thank you for the lemonade."

Dawn nodded. "You're welcome. Oh, when should I let the dog out for you?"

Rob stopped in the middle of the street and dug around in his pocket. He pulled out a ring of keys, searched out the one he wanted, and tossed it to Dawn. "Whenever is convenient for you, dear. That key is a copy, just hang onto it if you want. And thanks again."

As Dawn herded her daughter to the car, Heather looked up at her, excitement shining in her eyes. "He has a doggie?" 

*****


	3. An empty house and shifting shapes

Alright, everyone ready to go on to chapter three? Now, I told you to pay attention in the first two chapters, they set up details and stuff, but here's a bit to entice you.. *evil grin.* Please read and review!

Enjoy!

Andrea

Chapter 3: An empty house and shifting shapes 

The next afternoon, a noise outside woke the shaggy, golden-white colored dog sleeping on the living room couch. He lifted his head, yawned, and slowly stretched. Cocking his head, he listened for a moment, then put his head back down on the couch, though he kept his eyes on the front door. Sure enough, within a few minutes, he heard keys jangling outside, and the front door opened. 

The dog didn't lift his head off the couch, but wagged his tail when a tall, dark-haired woman entered the room. A smaller, blonde-haired girl followed close behind her.

"Oh, a doggy!" The smaller girl ran over to him and scratched behind his ears. He licked her other hand while she petted him and she giggled. 

The taller woman sighed and said "well, he seems friendly enough…" 

Dawn looked around the house. Although her new neighbor, Rob, had only moved into his new house a week ago, it was surprisingly clean and well-appointed. Everything was neat and put away in its place. She did not notice boxes anywhere- nothing still waiting to be unpacked or even cleaned. 

She set the keys down on an end table by the door and paused to look at one of the framed pictures on the fireplace mantle. Carefully picking it up, she inspected the face looking back at her. An elderly woman, her short, once dark hair shot through with silver, gazed back at her from beneath the glass. She looked up at the other picture frames. All of the same person. This must have been his wife, Dawn thought as she put the frame back on the mantle. 

She turned back to Heather, who was now hugging the dog around the neck. "Come on, we have to let this poor dog go outside. He's probably had to go all morning."

"Ok." She stood up and grabbed the dog's collar, tugging him towards the door. The dog got up off of the couch and followed Heather to the door, but then spread his feet and refused to go any further. 

"I don't think he has to go, mommy."

Dawn sighed. "Well he's going to have to go out, or he'll just have to wait until Rob gets home later today." She pulled on the dog's collar, but he still refused to move. She sighed. "Alright…" She moved behind the dog and wrapped her arms around his belly. With a heave, she picked him up, walked through the door, and set him down outside. "There, stubborn." The dog looked back up at her, absolutely bewildered, as if he'd never been treated so rudely. Dawn turned back to Heather. "Can you stay here and make sure he goes?" The girl nodded. 

Dawn set off through the house. Since he was all alone, Dawn figured it would be nice to invite Rob over for dinner every once in a while, but she didn't know what he liked, and wanted it to be a surprise. Knowing men in general, Rob probably didn't have a single piece of _actual _foodin the entire house. He'd probably have loads of frozen dinners and stuff ready to heat from a can. Ick. 

She found the kitchen and opened the fridge. To her surprise, the little light didn't come on. She flicked the overhead kitchen light on and hunched down to investigate the fridge. 

Bare. Completely empty. It didn't even feel cold inside. 

Dawn stared at the inside of the empty fridge for a few seconds, then closed the door. Hmm… She opened the freezer. Empty, and room temperature, as well. 

Investigating a cabinet, she found it, too, empty. She opened another. To her relief, it held some food, but precious little: a few odd cans of ready to eat stews, and a single can of green beans. She quickly pulled out a drawer; silverware was in this one, all neatly stacked in the little plastic separator. The cabinet above it held dishes; white plates with a daisy border. One plate with a chipped edge was on top. 

She slowly closed the cabinet door. Not enough food in the entire house to keep a man alive for a week. Her eyebrows furrowed in thought. Was Rob having financial problems? She didn't know why he'd had to move, he never said, but maybe he'd had to sell his last house and buy a smaller one to pay off bills after his wife's death?

Her eyes flicked out the window. Sam and Heather were running around in the fence, chasing each other in circles around a tree. 

And what about Sam? The dog looked healthy enough.. She looked around the kitchen again. This time, she noticed two trash cans sitting against a wall. One, when she lifted the lid, she assumed was for trash. A few odd pieces of paper, some plastic spoons, and tin cans were inside. The other, she noted with some relief, was a storage container for dry dog food. 

So at least he had the money to buy food for the dog, but where was Rob eating? She knew there were a few shelters downtown that gave out dinners nightly, but Rob didn't have a car. He couldn't walk that far… 

Deciding that she would help her neighbor however she could, she went into the bathroom. One small package of toilet paper was under the sink, and a new bar of soap was on top of the sink. A half-empty bottle of shampoo was on the tub rim. Otherwise, the room was bare. 

Next, she went to his bedroom. Opening the closet, she was surprised to see that he only had about four different shirts and pants, hanging neatly on hangers, inside. They were clean enough, though slightly outdated. Perhaps he'd gotten them from a second-hand shop. The bed was made neatly, and the only other piece of furniture in the room was a dresser. Taking a quick peek (and hoping that he'd forgive her), she found that he only owned a few pairs of undergarments, and three pairs of socks. She shook her head. Some people in the world were simply too stubborn to admit when they need help and seek it. 

Dawn closed the dresser drawer and went to the backdoor to get Heather and Sam. "Come on Heather, we've got to go." 

The girl groaned, but followed Sam inside. "Can't we stay longer?"

Dawn shook her head no as she locked the door. "We need to go shopping." 

Heather hugged Sam goodbye. "He's sooo bored. Can we bring him back to our house to play until Rob gets home from work?" Sam pulled away from Heather's grasp and jumped up on the couch. Circling once, he lay down and yawned. 

Dawn laughed. "No, Sam has to stay here, you can see him again tomorrow. Besides, I think you wore him out."

"Okay…" Heather walked over to the couch, gave Sam one more quick hug, and followed her mom out the door. 

Sam lay with his head on the couch, and listened once again to the keys jingling as Dawn locked the door behind her. As soon as he heard car doors slam, then the noise of the motor driving away, the dog stood up and hopped down from the couch. In the middle of the room the dog stopped, and stood up on his hind feet. Suddenly, but quickly and smoothly, the bones in his body shifted and shortened, his fur changed into pale tawny feathers. 

The barn owl looked around the room from the middle of the living room floor, then took wing. It flew down the hallway to the bedroom, and perched on the nearly empty pole that held the hangers in the closet. It looked out the open window to the bright afternoon sky, closed its eyes, and went to sleep. 

*****

O-o 

Ooooh… What's up? Huh? Huh? Please review, tell me what you thought!


	4. Canned peas and dusty landscapes

Alright, I've been really busy but I'm still trying to write and update. Here's a chapter, it's short, but it's new, so *thresp.* :-P Raspberries to you all. Hope you enjoy. 

Andrea

________________

Chapter 4: Canned peas and dusty landscapes

"Careful.." 

Dawn set the bag of groceries down on the kitchen table and ran over to take the bag that Heather was carrying. "Thank you, dear." 

They'd just spent the afternoon shopping for various items to take to Robinson. It was now nearly 3:30 pm, and Dawn had a lot more she wanted to get done before they went next door. 

Heather pulled down a corner of one paper bag and peered inside. "What's all this stuff for, Mom? We don't eat peas…" She pulled another can out of the bag. "Or, eww, kidney beans."

Dawn grinned as she set two empty laundry baskets on the floor. "No, normally we don't, but I think Rob probably does. Peas are good for you, and the beans we put in chili. You've had those before." She put a few items from her bag into the basket.

Heather made a face but continued to pull cans, boxes, and packages out of the bags paper bags and set them on the kitchen table.

"Ok, the peas and beans go in the laundry basket… That cereal box goes, that one too.. oh, and the cans of soup. No, the bottle of juice stays- that's yours. We'll just get these all ready and take them next door. Rob doesn't get home 'till six, I think, but won't this be a nice surprise?"

Heather shot a disgusted look at the can of peas sitting in the laundry basket. "Sure…"

*****

Dawn pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen in her face. The loose bun she'd thrown her hair up into had held through the first two hours of attic-rummaging, but now it kept coming undone. She exasperatedly let her hair down then twisted it back up.

Deciding to further ignore her hair, she stopped to take a look around. Three cardboard boxes were stacked along the far wall by the doorway; all full of her father's old clothes, and another ten boxes were stacked along another wall. Those were full of other "treasures" that had been stored up here at some point in her life. 

She pushed another box out of the way, and glanced at her watch. It was smeared with dirt, but still readable enough: 5:37 pm. She looked at the slowly shrinking pile of unsorted boxes, and sighing, decided to sift through just one more.

She pulled over another cardboard box. It was very old looking and worn at all the edge, and had some faded black writing scrawled across one side. The print was half gone and illegible now, but looked like it may have been a woman's writing at one point.

Dawn pulled open the top flaps and peered inside. A thick coat of dust coated everything, transforming it into a weird, barren-looking moonscape. She made a face, reached inside, and started moving things around. 

She pulled items out of the box, and set them in her lap. A few worn stuffed animals, an old fashioned wooden maze, an assortment of toys and things…

Something caught her eye and Dawn reached inside the box again. Dust billowed up around her, caught the light filtering in through the windows on the other side of the room, and seemed to glimmer, hovering in the air a few feet around her, as if holding its breath.

She pulled her arm back out of the box and brushed one hand across the dusty surface of the object she held.

A cracked, faded, red, leather-bound journal.

***** 

Reviews make me post faster!!


	5. Picture frames and a rose is a rose

Alright guys, another chapter is finally ready. I hope you like it- and don't worry, it's a lot longer than the last chapter. Please read and review or one of these chapters I'll leave you with a monumental cliffhanger then stop writing! Ha! 

Andrea

____________________________________

Chapter 5: Picture frames and a rose is a rose.

Dawn knocked on the door and waited for an answer. 

She and Heather had brought over two laundry baskets of groceries and three cardboard boxes full of clothes for Rob. She didn't think it was worth it to pile everything into the car just to drive across the street, so they packed everything into, and on top of, Heather's old red wagon, and pulled that across the street instead. 

Dawn knocked on the door again and listened for any sounds inside. 

Another neighbor from down the street walked by with their dog and stared at her. Blushing, she was suddenly aware of what a mess she must look. She hadn't bothered to clean up after rummaging through the attic. Heather looked up at her mom with the air of someone who was bored.

"Mommy, why can't we just go inside? We have a key…"

Dawn shrugged and reached in her pants pocket. "Well, I wanted it to be a surprise for him, but he must be out walking the dog." She looked at her watch. 6:10 pm. "Yeah, I think Rob took Sam around the block to give him some exercise."

She unlocked the door, and helped Heather carry the boxes and laundry baskets inside. 

*****

Dawn locked the door behind her as they left Rob's house. They'd just filled the kitchen cabinets with an assortment of grocery items, left a carton of eggs, a container of butter, juice, and a half gallon of milk in the fridge, and Dawn had hung up several outfits in the bedroom closet, and put the rest of the clothes away in the dresser drawers. She hoped the clothes would fit him.

Dawn dug a piece of paper out of her other pocket and left it on the fireplace mantel where Rob would see it when he came home, then bent down and picked up her two laundry baskets.

"Well sweetie, let's go." 

*****

Dawn sat on the swing at the end of the front porch, reading. The sun was slowly setting, casting an array of beautiful colors across the sky. Soon it would be too dark to read, but that was okay. Soon Rob will have gotten home, read her note, and come over to join them for dinner. She would have to go inside anyways. 

She stopped reading and tilted her head towards the open window. After a second or two, she heard a squeal of laughter from inside. Heather was still watching her movie in the living room, clutching her stuffed fox, Didymus, no doubt. She looked at her watch- the oven timer would go off in about five minutes.

She turned back to her reading. 

Having already wished her brother away to the Goblin King, the girl in the story now had thirteen hours to "unriddle the labyrinth" before her baby brother became a goblin. Currently, the girl had been cornered in a section of the maze with only two doors as her means of escaping. She had just gone through a door with a talking knocker and entered a forest where the trees, the birds, the animals laughed until they collapsed. They were all mad, with gaping mouths and beady little eyes.. She'd escaped through the door she came in, and having no other options, took the other door. This one lead to another forest, which was eerily silent. Everything was gray, the ground, the trees, the sky itself, and it looked like the sun had never shown on this utterly depressing, forsaken land. 

Dawn stopped reading long enough to brush a lock of hair out of her face and turn the page. Though it was actually a children's book, this story was absolutely fascinating- however this allure was a double-edged sword. Part of it still unnerved her. The Goblin King character in particular intrigued her. He seemed to have multiple personalities- that of a king and another of a common man- and numerous desires- love, greed, and vanity- pulling him in different directions, dictating his mood. He was such a quixotic character- one could virtually feel the innate sexuality radiating from his written form. No wonder the girl in the story found herself repelled yet drawn to him. And Dawn found that Heather was right, the Goblin King's necklace in the story was exactly like the sickle shape she had found almost a year ago on her mother's hands. 

Coincidence? Perhaps, perhaps not. Maybe some sick person was just trying to pull a mean prank. She didn't know what was going on still, if anything, but it was.. just.. odd. Her mother had died quietly in her sleep, with no signs of struggle, so how had those strange markings suddenly appeared overnight?

Dawn heard a door shut and footsteps coming nearer. Looking up, she saw Rob walking across the road towards her. She waved hello, closed her book, and stood up. 

"How was the walk with Sam?" she asked. 

"Walk?" he asked, perplexed. "Oh, yes, it was okay. He's sleeping on the couch now, lazy dog." She nodded. He was silent for a moment, then, almost as if his pride was wounded; "Thank you for the clothes.. but I really didn't need them." 

She shook her head. "I couldn't help but notice when I went over to let Sam out. I hope you didn't mind me.. I mean, I suppose I _was_ being a bit nosy..." 

"It's okay.. Thank you." 

She nodded again. "You're welcome." As the uncomfortable moment stretched out, Dawn wondered why he hadn't mentioned all the groceries. Swallowing ones pride was hard enough once a day, she supposed, yet alone twice. 

"Well, ready for dinner?" she asked, changing the subject, and pointed him towards the door. "We're having meatloaf and mashed potatoes… just don't forget- you have to hold up _your_ end of the bargain.."

Rob laughed. "Yes, yes, I'll start mowing first thing tomorrow!"

"And the house needs painted, and…"

They walked inside.

*****

Sunday morning came too quickly for Dawn. She peeled back the covers of her four-post bed and squinted against the bright sunlight shining in the windows. She'd stayed up late, long after she'd sent Heather to bed, talking with Rob over a glass or two of wine. He was such a charming man, witty with a depth of intelligence well beyond his numerous years. Charming or not, she'd drunk a bit too much- she couldn't remember how many glasses she'd had exactly- and was now paying for it with a headache. 

She groaned, and lay in bed for a few minutes. The clock on the nightstand said it was 9:47 am. She could read that clearly because the nightstand was only about 5 inches from her side of the bed. It was weird, she thought, that she'd always lain on one side of the bed- the left- and never really moved very far over in her sleep. It was almost as if she was expecting to wake up one morning and find the love of her life laying next to her. 

She snorted. 

Deciding to get it over with, she quickly sat up, swung her feet over the edge of the large bed and sat still as her head swam. After a moment, she opened her eyes again. 

She felt around with her feet and managed to find her fluffy pink bunny house slippers. Heather had given her them for Mother's Day the year before. Really, Dawn had let Heather go to the store and pick something small out; she had wanted to get her mom something more than the card she'd made in school, but had no money herself, so Dawn kept her eyes closed as Heather led her through the store by the hand in search of something perfect. 

She slipped them on and wiggled her toes inside. Dawn loved them, really. They reminded her of the pink bunny wallpaper that had been in Heather's room before they had moved into her mother's house. She'd spent many a sleepless nights staring at that pink bunny wallpaper, nursing or burping Heather as she tried to get her back to sleep. Heather had had a few rough years as a baby. She was often sick, though there was seemingly no cause for it. Doctors just said she must easily catch what other people had. Heather had slowly become healthier over the first few years, but still seemed to catch a lot of things through the year. 

Dawn stood up, pulled on her bathrobe, and walked downstairs. Still fumbling with her bathrobe ties, she was greeted at the bottom of the stairs by Heather, who sat at the kitchen table eating a plate of scrambled eggs and French toast. Her mouth was full as she managed a "good morning."

Dawn paused, and looked at the hot plate of food. "Where did you get that?" Heather could manage a bowl of cereal in the morning by herself, but she certainly didn't know how to cook anything, and Dawn wouldn't let her near the over unattended anyways. 

Heather finished her mouthful and stabbed another piece of French toast with her fork. "Rob made it for me," she said, and stuffed the bite into her mouth. 

"Where…?" Dawn gaped. Just then, Robinson came around the corner, interrupting her. 

"Come, come, have a seat." He carried another plate out and set it on the table. Dawn stood there, then blushed and belatedly grabbed at her bathrobe ties and pulled it shut over her nightgown. "Sorry," she murmured, and quickly sat down. 

Rob nodded and set the plate down in front of her, and walked back into the kitchen. Heather leaned conspiratorially over to Dawn. 

"I've found a piece of shell or two so far, but the eggs are pretty good otherwise!" 

Dawn eyed the plate before her and poked the yellow mass with her fork. Hearing Rob coming back from the kitchen, she quickly stuffed a mouthful of egg into her mouth. She immediately regretted it.

"Orange juice? I assume you like it, it _is _in your fridge after all.." He held out a full glass. Dawn nodded her thanks and quickly reached for it, trying not to seem too desperate. 

"Everything taste good?" Heather nodded and shoveled another piece of toast into her mouth. Dawn politely nodded, her mouth still full with the first bite of egg. He smiled, and walked back into the kitchen. 

As soon as she heard Rob clanging some pots and pans around, assumedly doing dishes, she picked up a napkin and spit out her mouthful of egg. "Ack, how can you eat that?" she whispered at Heather. She quickly downed half of the glass of orange juice. The eggs were terribly over-salted, and Rob had added red cayenne pepper to them for some reason. And she had managed to find a piece of eggshell. 

Heather just shrugged. "Well, I took a bite of mine, and they were okay I told him, and told him that when _you _make them, you add stuff from the spice cabinet. I told him it makes them taste really good." Heather beamed up at her mom and took another bite of her eggs. 

*****

After Heather had finished her breakfast, Dawn sent her upstairs to get dressed. Meanwhile, after Dawn had managed to preoccupy Rob long enough to run to the kitchen trash can with her plate of breakfast, she, too, went upstairs to "get decent," as she said.

Rob waited on the couch downstairs while the girls were occupied. He could hear the floorboards above him squeak and groan as they moved about upstairs. He looked around the living room in boredom. Several pictures spotted the walls and tables- a few of Sarah and a brown-haired man, but most were of Sarah, Dawn and Heather, or all three of them together. One picture frame in particular caught his interest. He stood up, and walked across the room to it. 

It was a large, matted and framed set of photographs. Three circles of cutouts held pictures, each circle nestled within the next, somewhat like a bulls-eye target. All of the pictures in the innermost circle were worn looking and slightly yellowed with age. The next row of them looked to be in good enough condition, while the outermost circle's pictures were still shiny they were so new. Squinting, he saw that this frame simply repeated the others in the room. 

Sarah's pictures; some from childhood, some from adulthood, even a wedding picture, were in the inner circle. Dawn's were right outside of that, and pretty much were the same, except for the lack of a wedding photo. Heather's pictures were mostly from the last few years, though one of them showed Dawn holding a red-faced baby in the hospital. Rob grinned. Covered in sweat, with hair plastered to her forehead, Dawn looked like she'd just been through hell and back in the picture, but her face in the picture showed nothing but absolute joy towards the little baby in her arms. Rob heard a stair squeak behind him and turned, startled. Dawn stood there, watching him. 

"Sorry, I…" He didn't know what to say. He'd expected her to be several more minutes.

"It's okay." Uneasy silence stretched out between them again. They both looked up as heavy footsteps came bounding down the stairs. Heather, resplendent in bright pink pants, a lime green and purple striped shirt, and yellow flip-flops two sizes too big, came running downstairs. Her hair looked like it had been half-heartedly brushed, then thrown into a ponytail, or at least, that it had been attempted.

"I'm ready!" she announced, and showed the adults her beautiful ensemble. Both adults laughed. 

"Well, all right.." Dawn smiled as she fixed Heather's ponytail. "Let's go outside then."

*****

After a few tries of showing Rob how to use the ancient push-type mower, he finally set about mowing the yard. There was a certain knack to it, he found; one had to push the contraption fast enough to keep the blades twirling to cut the grass, but not too fast, or it missed entire sections of grass. He'd had to backtrack and re-cut several feet of yard before he'd noticed this. 

Dawn felt bad that all she had was that ancient piece of metal she'd found in the garage years ago to cut the grass, but she didn't really have the money to spend on one of those fancy mowers. The old push-mower had probably been in the garage since the house was built, but it worked well enough for what she needed. Once she was satisfied that Rob knew what he was doing, she and Heather went to the flower beds that surrounded the porch. 

"Well, I don't know why they call them flower beds, they're just full of weeds!" she exclaimed. Heather giggled and pulled up a stalk of a particularly fuzzy weed. 

"This one looks like a bunny tail," she said, and touched the soft-looking fluff. "Ouch!" she gasped, and dropped the weed. 

"Are you okay?" Dawn asked, and looked at Heather's hand. 

"Yeah, stupid weed… it _looked _fuzzy…"

The girls went to work, pulling anything green from the flower beds. By the time Rob had mowed all the way around the house, they had all of the beds cleared, and had loosened up the dirt with their tools. He joined them, and between the three of them, had all of the flower beds replanted within a few hours. They all stood back to admire their work. 

"The yard looks lovely," Dawn commented to Rob. In truth, there were patchy areas, and he'd missed a spot or two, but it still looked wonderful compared to what it had looked like for the past few years.

"Thank you. The flowers look nice too. What type are they?"

Heather picked up one of the little plastic spikes that always came packaged with potted plants. "The purple and yellow ones are violets, and.." she picked up another spike. "The prickly thing is a rose." She looked down at the small, bare plant. "I don't see any roses, mommy." Dawn laughed.

"They'll come, don't worry. It's still a small plant, it has to get a little bigger. Maybe by next year…" She bent down and picked up another plastic-wrapped bundle with twigs poking out of the top. "We'll take this one to Grandma tomorrow after school, okay?" Heather nodded. 

"Grandma?" Rob asked. He'd thought...

"Yes, my mother put these flower beds here when she was younger, she loved flowers. Heather thought it would be a good idea to take one to her grave, and plant it there for her." Rob nodded. Heather's belly rumbled and Dawn looked at her watch. 

"Well! We've been so busy working we completely forgot about lunch. No wonder you're hungry. Do we want lunch, or should we make dinner early?" 

Heather and Rob looked at each other. "Dinner," they said together. 

As the girls headed for the door, Rob took one more look at that little bush they called a rose, then went inside.

*****

Reviews make me write faster! 


	6. Goodnight and Hello

Alright, finally, another chapter is up! These next two or three chapters may be a little slow, but things will quickly build up after that, so pay attention and keep reading! As always, please read and review. Tell me your thoughts on what is happening. J 

Andrea

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Chapter 6: "Goodnight" and "Hello"

The night went fast. Before Dawn knew it, she had made dinner, it was gratefully eaten, and they were saying goodnight to Rob. Heather reached up to him. 

"Pick me up!" Rob smiled and did so, making an exaggerated groaning noise as he did. 

"Oof, you're so heavy!" he teased, tickling her in the sides. Heather giggled and squirmed. 

"Alright, Heather, say goodnight. It's past your bedtime and you have school tomorrow. Besides I'm sure Rob is very tired after all he helped us with today."

He shook his head. "It wasn't a problem, not at all. Besides, imagine the mess I'd have to clean if Sam stayed inside all day while I was at work." He looked at Heather. "Off you go, little one." She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a big hug. He looked a little surprised, but hugged her back with a smile at Dawn.

"Can you bring Sam over to our house to play sometime?" Heather asked as Rob set her down. 

"Well… maybe sometime, if it's okay with your mom.." he replied. He looked at Dawn.

"We'll see," she told Heather. "Now you get up to bed." 

Rob set Heather down and the girl ran upstairs to get ready for bed. Dawn turned to Rob. 

"Thank you so much for all your help today. The yard hasn't looked this good in years." 

Rob nodded, acknowledging her praise. "You're quite welcome, though while we're doling out praise, thank _you_ for another lovely meal. You're a wonderful cook."

Dawn blushed slightly and said, "you're welcome." She actually wondered how long it _had _been since Rob had a decently cooked meal. The first night he had been over for dinner, he had quickly wolfed down his food, then gone back for seconds. Tonight he still seemed to inhale what he had, but maybe he had just worked up an appetite working in the yard. 

Rob looked down at his watch. "Well, I'd better be off to bed.. Goodnight, Dawn."

"Goodnight."

*****

The girls woke up late Monday morning and Dawn quickly hurried to get Heather ready and out to the bus on time. They rushed outside just as the bus pulled up to their house. 

"Mommy, look!" Heather said, stopping suddenly as she pointed across the street and waved. "It's Rob!" He waved back.

Dawn quickly ushered her to the bus, looking up as she walked. Sure enough, there he was, walking down the sidewalk away from his house. She flashed a quick wave in his direction and kept talking to Heather.   
"Your lunch money is in the front pocket of your book bag, don't forget. I'll let Sam out while you're at school, and when you get home we'll go over again, then go and plant Grandma's rose bush. Okay?"

Heather nodded, and Dawn gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. 

"Be good." The little girl flashed an impish smile, and boarded the bus. Dawn held her breath as the bus sped off and exhaust swirled around her. 

She looked across the street again, but Rob was no where in sight. Of course he would have had to keep on walking, he'd be late for work otherwise. Still..

Dawn walked back into the house, started a few loads of laundry, then decided to relax and read some more until she had to go let Sam out in a few hours. She walked upstairs to her bedroom, grabbed Heather's red book she'd been reading off the nightstand, then turned to leave before something caught her eye. On top of her dresser lay the red leather book she'd found in the attic Saturday. Quickly making up her mind, she grabbed that too, went downstairs, stopped by the kitchen for some lemonade, and went to the front porch swing to read.

She opened the second book, and turned to the first page. She saw the date written at the top, and immediately recognized her mother's messy, but at the same time precise, handwriting. It was decidedly less shaky in her youth.

__

Dear diary,

"Dear Diary." Is it just me, or does that seem a very cheesy thing to say? Oh well. I've never had a diary before, I always thought my stepmother would find it and go snooping through it. I guess now that I have one I'll just have to hide it well. Maybe under the bed… or maybe in the drawer of my vanity mirror…

I just bought this one downtown at the bookstore. I picked up another play book there too, since I know Mac Beth by heart now. I'm so excited, new lines to memorize and rehearse…

Dawn turned the page, and kept reading.

*****

The curtains in the window pulled back a fraction of an inch, and a pair of blue eyes looked out at the woman sitting on the front porch across the street. A squint improved the eyesight enough to confirm that she was no longer reading the same red book she'd been reading before, but a slightly larger one. A _different_ one.

Jareth swore. Sarah's journal? How the bloody hell had she gotten her hands onto that? 

He wasn't sure what, if anything, Sarah would have written about him or her time in the Labyrinth, but any mention at all could be devastating. Dawn was a smart woman, she would very quickly put two and two together.

"Too quickly," he muttered to himself.

Jareth dropped the window corner of the curtain and quickly walked to the bedroom. He paused and concentrated for a moment, allowing his body to shift into the form of a barn owl, and flew out the window, which he always left open. 

Gaining sufficient altitude so as not to be seen by anyone below, he disappeared in a flash of light and glitter.

*****

A clean-shaven, dark haired man sat alone at the end of a long mahogany table in a grand dining room. The large windows along one wall were all open, and a slight breeze stirred the curtains. He was sitting down to his midday meal, and just reaching for a piece of fruit, when an owl came swooping through the window, screeching vehemently. It landed on the floor, and started changing. A few moments later, Jareth stood in the owl's place. 

The dark haired man's eyebrows raised.   
"Why, hello, brother…"

*****


	7. Errant siblings and running late

Yea! Another chapter is ready.

Grr.. this new uploading editing software crap wont' let me keep my dividing stars.. lines will now have to take their place. fumes

Please read and review; tell me anything you think.

Andrea

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Chapter 7: Errant siblings and running late

Jareth strode forward and gave the man a quick hug. "So how's everything been? The little rats haven't driven you mad yet, have they, Adair?" He asked with a slight grin.

The Goblin King's younger brother shook his head. "No, but there've been a few times that they almost blew up the whole bloody castle trying to cook.. Thankfully Nicholas is back from his trip Above, though. Eating goblin food is horrible. I don't know how you do it."

Jareth laughed. "It keeps you lean!" He said, and put one hand on his stomach. "But seriously, I'm glad he's back. I'm sure he'll have plenty of new recipes from Paris to fatten you up with while I'm gone."

Adair frowned. "You're going back? It's been over a week. I thought you'd be done with whatever by now."

Jareth nodded. "Well, it's taking a bit longer than I expected. I wanted to get to know Sarah's daughter and granddaughter a little; they're the only link I have to her now."

Adair nodded. "So what are they like?" He'd never met Sarah in person, but had heard plenty about her over the years. Since Jareth rarely spoke of her, he'd heard most of the things through Nicholas, Jareth's personal chef and best friend, whom Adair was also friends with.

"Heather is Sarah's granddaughter.." he said, and started smiling. "She's about eight years old, and such a mischievous little imp- she'd give the best of our goblins a good run for their money."

Adair nodded.

"And her daughter, Dawn, looks just like her mother. She's got her long, dark brown hair, same gorgeous eyes and beautiful face…"

Adair eyed his brother suspiciously and nudged him in the ribs with an elbow. "Are you falling for this woman?"

Jareth shook his head and dismissed the idea with a flick of his hand. "No, no, I'll always love Sarah. I just.." he sighed. "I'm sure they're fine, but I want to make sure they're taken care of." He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Adair. "You'll understand once you've truly been in love."

His brother smiled, but it quickly faded. "I had been in love once.. but I guess it wasn't meant to be."

"Lust isn't love, Adair," Jareth said, shaking his head. His brother wasn't a wild man by any means, but he definitely knew his fair share on how to seduce women.

Adair's face fell and he shook his head. "No. I'd found it once. I guess it wasn't love though, at least for her."

Jareth put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'm sure it was for the best. You'll find someone eventually. Don't worry about it."

They were both quiet for a moment, then Jareth spoke up again.

"I've just discovered a small problem, though, and I need to enlist your help for a while longer." Adair nodded. "Dawn has Sarah's old diary."

"So? I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't mind staying here and keeping an eye on things while you're gone, but I do not see how this requires your further attention."

"You knew that Sarah was the young girl who challenged me years ago to win her brother back, correct?"

Adair chuckled. "Yes, of course. And when she did beat you, you moped around for months. I'd find you peering into your crystals for hours on end…" his grin faded. "So why can you and Nicholas go Aboveworld whenever you desire, while I am forced to remain here?"

Jareth closed his eyes and tried not to lose his patience. "We've been over this before.." He opened his eyes and looked at Adair. "You would have been allowed to go on trips with me, had you not 'apprehended' one of my crystals and made an illicit venture alone. Instead, you up and disappear- leaving my entire Court looking for you- and when we finally do find you, you're running around like a madman."

"I was having fun. And no one figured out who I was. Besides, none of the girls _here_ are that much fun. They just want to sit and have tea and gossip about whose babe so-and-so just had.."

Jareth kept his tone firm. "That's _not_ the point. I was furious when I learned you had gone Aboveground. If the High Elders had found out about it, I would have been forced to imprison you for life, or banish you Aboveworld, where you would have surely died. Or worse, you would have lost your magic and be as good as dead."

Adair wisely kept his mouth shut and dropped the subject. Though Jareth was his brother, he was still his king, also.

He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Again, though, I've discovered a problem. I do not know what Sarah may have written in her diary about her 'adventure' here, or myself. I need to get it away from Dawn without rising any suspicions. She's also got Sarah's old play book, but that alone is no harm. It is only if Sarah has written anything in her diary, that problems could arise." He looked at his brother.

"I do not know how long this may take, but I am asking you to stay longer and continue your watch over everything in my stead. Will you do that for me?"

Adair stared at Jareth for a moment, then nodded his head slightly. "Good luck."

* * *

"Oh my gosh! It's already two o' clock!" Dawn exclaimed, looking at her watch. She set her book down on the front porch swing and ran inside to find Rob's house key. "Oh, I should have been over hours ago to let poor Sam out!" She quickly shoved some flip-flops on and ran across the street towards Rob's house.

A white and buff-colored owl flying overhead towards a tree in the backyard of the same house saw the woman coming and let out a squawk. Running out of options, Jareth dove and quickly landed in the backyard. Hoping no neighbors were watching, he immediately changed into the shaggy dog that Dawn knew, and quickly lay down next to the tree, pretending to be asleep.

"There you are!" The back door opened and Dawn walked outside. "I was starting to worry when you weren't inside.. Now how on earth did you get out?" Sam walked over to her and wagged his tail. "Yes, aren't you the naughty one. Come on, let's go inside."

She walked back to the kitchen and scooped some more dog food from the bin it was kept in, and poured it into Sam's bowl. She picked up his water dish and emptied it in the sink, refilling it with fresh water, and set it back down. Sam looked at it disdainfully, but started eating.

"Now how did you manage to get out? I don't think Rob would have left you out all day.." She looked around. The back door was always closed and locked, so he couldn't have gotten out there. There were only two windows that would lead to the backyard; the bedroom window, or the kitchen window. The kitchen window was shut and locked, so she walked to the bedroom.

"Ah _hah_," she muttered, seeing the window open halfway. "Rob must like to keep his window open at night for fresh air." She had had to do the same thing a few times before, usually just over the summer when the air conditioning broke down. She reached up and shut the window, turning the little switch at the top to lock it. "There. Let's see you get out _now_, Houdini." She turned and walked back to the kitchen, where Sam was still eating.

"Alright, puppy. No more escaping until Rob gets home, then you can do whatever you want." She patted him on the head and picked up her keys from the kitchen table. "We'll be back over later, Sam."

She left, and locked the door behind her. Sam ran to the window, and put his paws on the windowsill. Once Dawn was safely across the street, and had resumed reading on the porch swing, Sam trotted to the bedroom, jumped up on his hind legs, and pawed at the window. Letting out a snort, he dropped back down to all fours and started shifting form again. Jareth stood back up a few seconds later.

He immediately unlocked and opened the bedroom window again. "There." He always wanted this window open. It was easiest to fly in and out of unseen from the backyard, and it allowed a nice breeze in the house besides.

He then walked out to the kitchen. His stomach gurgled audibly, and he rubbed it absently. The only thing he had in the house right now was the dog food, which was edible at best when he was in dog form, and a few remaining cans of stew, which he was reserving for emergencies only. His stomach protested its hunger again. Shaking his head, he walked back to the bedroom, and shifted into owl form. Figuring he could roam the neighborhood for a few mice or a rabbit, he took flight out the window.

* * *

An hour or so later, the owl returned, a slight bulge in its stomach. It shifted once more into the shape of the dog, and settled down on the bed to sleep.

* * *


	8. Mud clothes and spindly beginnings

Alright, time for a new chapter. I've been working on it for a day or two now, and it's not quite "perfect" but I'm in a bad mood and hoped I'd get some reviews to cheer me up later tonight after work, so I'm posting it anyways. (I never claimed to have loads of patience!) I may tweak/edit it slightly but it's pretty much going to be the same as it is now.

Please review.

Andrea

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Chapter 8: Mud clothes and spindly beginnings

Dawn heard the squeal of the bus's breaks long before she saw it come around the corner at the end of their street. She set her book down on the porch steps and stood up as it came roaring down the street. She held her breath again as the bus stopped, exhaust billowing out around it. The squeaky door opened, and Heather came running down the stairs towards her mom.

"Mommy!" She dumped her book bag on the ground and gave her mom a hug. "Can we go see Sam now?" She gave her mom one of those sad eyed puppy-dog faces that no one could refuse. Dawn laughed.   
"Yes, but he probably won't have to go out. Go put your things in the house."

Heather ran inside, up the stairs, and threw her book bag on her bed. Dawn shook her head as she heard the girl thundering back down the stairs, and shot out the front door like a bullet. "Let's go, Mom!"

They walked across the street and let Sam outside again. Dawn was right, he didn't need to go outside, but she let Heather play with him for a while in the backyard. While they were keeping each other occupied, curiosity won out, and she checked up again on how Rob was doing. Opening a cupboard, she was surprised to see that not a single can of food was out of place. Nothing.

She checked the fridge again. Everything was still cold, but the half-gallon of milk they'd brought over had gone out of date. It hadn't even been opened. Nothing in the freezer had been moved, either.

Dawn frowned. She knew that Rob had at least some cooking skills- he'd made breakfast for them Sunday morning- so why wasn't he using any of the things they had brought over?

She turned around and leaned back against the kitchen counter, thinking. Something in the living room caught her eye and she looked up. It was the picture of Rob's wife. Suddenly, things in her mind clicked into place.

Rob must be so lonely. That's why he had made the proposition for Dawn to take care of his dog while he was at work. Sam really would have been fine inside all day, and Rob really shouldn't be doing most of the things needed to repair the house, but he did it because he was lonely.

She turned around again and looked out the kitchen window to where Sam and Heather were playing. "Heather, come on dear, we need to get going."

They both stopped running and looked towards the window. Heather started plodding towards the back door, Sam in tow behind her. Once they were both inside, Dawn shut and locked the door again.

"Mommy, do we have to go?" Heather asked.

Dawn nodded. "Yes, we need to go plant Grandma's rose bush, remember? Let's go get into some gardening clothes, and grab a quick snack, and if Rob gets back from work in time he can come with us, okay?"

Heather thought about it for a moment then nodded. "Okay." She gave Sam one more hug. "Bye Sam."

Sam watched once more as they shut the front door and left, and ran once again to the front window to watch. Once they were across the street and inside their house, he ran to the bedroom…

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Dawn and Heather went home and quickly changed into some older clothes. While Dawn sat on her bed tying the laces on a pair of worn out sneakers, Heather came padding into the bedroom.

"Mommy, are these clothes muddy enough?" Dawn looked her over.

"Are those your new overalls you just got for your birthday last year, or the old Osh Kosh ones?" She noticed then that the legs of Heather's overalls were about three inches too short. "Ah. Your older ones. Yes, dear, they're fine. Are you all ready?"

Heather nodded.   
"Okay. Well, let's get our tools out of the garage and head out."

They walked downstairs to the kitchen and Heather picked up the rose bush, where Dawn had set it on the counter earlier. After making sure the front door was locked, they took the side door that led to the garage, and gathered their short-handled garden tools. They climbed in the car, waited for the garage door to go up, then Dawn backed the car out.

She never particularly liked days like today. Her family was all she ever had, and though her parents had passed away, she always made it a point to go by and plant flowers, or just stop and 'talk' to her parents. She didn't mind taking the time and going, but the rest of those days were always hard. She always left the cemetery feeling empty, alone, and a little depressed. She never mentioned this to her daughter, because by now, Heather was used to their trips to the cemetery. They'd been going since she was a toddler to visit Dawn's father. She sighed. It was just something one learned to deal with.

"Mommy, here comes Rob!" Heather interrupted her thoughts. Dawn looked behind her and sure enough, Rob was just crossing the street, headed in their direction. "Can he come with us?" Heather asked excitedly. Dawn rolled down the car window.

Rob bent down and stuck his head in the window to talk.

"You two lovely ladies headed somewhere?" he asked, grinning.

"We're going to plant our rose bush!" Heather piped up from the back seat, and showed him the little plastic-wrapped bundle of sticks that hardly resembled a bush. He nodded.

"Oh, okay, well, don't let me interrupt you.." he said, and started turning to leave.

"Wait," Dawn held out her hand to stop him. "Would you like to come with us?"

He shook his head. "No, I wouldn't want to intrude on family affairs."

"Oh, puh-leeese?" Heather gave him one of those puppy-dog eye faces from the backseat that seemed to work so well on her mother. Rob looked at Dawn and raised an eyebrow. She nodded.   
"Heather was just asking if you could come along." She reached over and opened the door. "We'd love to have you along, Rob."

He looked at both of them and felt a smile tug at his lips. "Oh, okay. Thank you."

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They climbed out of the car and walked over to the double headstone that was engraved with Dawn's parents', and Heather's grandparents', names. Dawn and Heather walked forward and kneeled in front of the dappled gray stone, and started pulling up the grass in front of it. Rob walked forward more slowly, respectfully.

"Hi, Gramma." Heather said as she unceremoniously plopped down on the ground, and yanked up a tuft of grass. "We have a surprise! It's a rose bush! It doesn't look like a rose bush yet, but don't worry. Mommy says it will grow big and get pretty flowers, and…"

Rob listened to Heather prattle on to the headstone for a few minutes, thoughtful.

"You keep pulling up grass, sweetie, I'll be right back." Dawn said, standing up. She walked the few feet to where Rob stood. They stood in silence for a moment, watching Heather weed. Finally, Rob spoke.   
"Does she always talk to the stone?" he asked quietly. Dawn nodded.

"We both do, she just does it more often. I think it makes both of us feel like Mom is still a part of our lives." Rob nodded.

"Dad passed away before Heather was born, so she never knew him. She's seen pictures, and knows all about him, but she doesn't talk to him as much." Rob nodded again.

"Mom, I think I'm done." Heather said, and pointed to a bare patch of dirt.

"Okay, sweetie." She gave a small smile towards Rob, and walked forward. In a few minutes, they had dug a small hole and stood the rose bush up. While Rob watched, Dawn held the bush in place while Heather pushed the dirt in around it, and patted it smooth. They both stood up to admire their handiwork.

Dawn made a frown.

"It looks lovely." Rob offered.

"It looks like a stick!" Heather responded.

Dawn made a wry grin. "It'll grow. It just needs time." She looked down at her watch. "It's almost dinner time, Heather. We'd better get going. Can you pick up the tools, and put them in the trunk for me?" Heather nodded and gathered their things, then stopped once more at the gravestone.

"Goodbye, Gramma and Grampa. We'll be back soon. I hope you like your flower!" Dawn ruffled Heather's hair with one hand as she ran past to get in the car.

She crouched down and silently regarded the two names carved into the stone for a moment. This was the part she hated, saying goodbye. She would stand up and leave, and have to get through the rest of the day battling her emotions and the demon she called guilt.

Dawn had always wondered what her father would have said if he had been alive when she found out she was pregnant.

Nothing, she always thought. He would have said nothing at all.

He would have simply swept her up into his arms and just held her until she stopped crying. He would have known she was frightened, and worried, and it wouldn't have mattered that she was not married. It wouldn't have mattered that she was pregnant because she had fallen for an attractive man, and believed his proclamations of love…

Dawn quickly wiped one tear away that fell down her cheek and fought the rest down. She had always wondered what her dad would have said, and was pretty sure that she was right, but that nagging suspicion of guilt was always there.

Her mother had been alive, though, and had done her best to help Dawn through the pregnancy, the morning sickness, the birth, the terrible twos.. Sarah would have given anything up to help Dawn through the rough times. The thought of her mother's support was always what helped Dawn fight down that feeling of guilt.

Besides, Heather was truly the best thing that had ever happened in Dawn's life. Heather brightened every day up with her vivacious personality, gave her a reason to go on in this world. She was what had pulled Dawn through her mothers' death; without Heather, Dawn knew she would have been completely lost and alone. In fact, Dawn never came to the cemetery without her.

She would not feel guilty to be blessed with such a godsend. It wouldn't have mattered that this godsend was unplanned, and it wouldn't have mattered that her mother was unmarried.

What _would_ have mattered was the fact that the child was conceived because of love, and love had always been what was important to her family. Love was the reason Dawn kept coming to the cemetery to visit her parents, even though she always left feeling alone and depressed.

Aware that by now, Heather and Rob would be waiting on her, she kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed her hand to the gray stone. Standing up, she turned and was surprised to see Rob still standing there. She thought he'd gone to the car with Heather. She gave him a small smile, and walked over to him. He held out a hand to her and she squeezed it gratefully.

"We've both lost someone very dear to us. I'm always here if you ever need me," he said. Dawn nodded, squeezed his hand once more, and headed for the car herself.

From her seat in the car, Dawn watched Rob stand there and stare at the headstone for a few minutes. He must be thinking of his deceased wife, she thought. After a few minutes, Rob turned and headed for the car.

The ride home was fairly silent, Heather was the main one talking; she was excited about the macaroni and cheese her mom had promised to let her help make when they got home.

"I love stirring in the cheese," she said to no one in particular.

When they got home, Dawn remembered Rob's cupboards and how he was so lonely.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" she asked.

Rob remembered the strong, but sad, look he'd seen on Dawn's face earlier, and figured she could probably use the company right now.

"I'd love to," he replied.

Together, the three made dinner and sat in the living room watching Heather watch cartoons until nine, when Dawn told her she had to go to bed. Heather gave Rob a goodnight hug and plodded upstairs. Dawn followed Rob to the front door.

Rob stepped outside, and turned back to face Dawn. "Dawn, I…" he said, then seemed to trail off. "Goodnight." He shook his head and started to turn and leave again.

"Rob," Dawn said, and took a step forward out onto the porch. He stopped and turned again, one eyebrow raised slightly. She met his eyes then quickly looked down at the floor, twisting her fingers nervously.

"Yes?"

She looked back up at him and suddenly gave him a hug, one cheek resting on his chest. "Thank you for today," she said.

He loosely wrapped his arms around her, and resting his chin lightly on her forehead, returned the hug.

"Thank _you_, Dawn." She stood there for a moment in his grasp before he released her. "Goodnight," he said, and turned and started walking across the street.

Dawn stood there long enough to make sure he got across the street, then turned to walk back in the house. She had her hand on the door handle when something caught her eye and she paused. She turned, and walked to the edge of the waist-high railing that surrounded the front porch.

Looking very out of place, but like it belonged nonetheless, was a single, perfect red rose on the end of one of the stems on the spindly little bush they had just planted the day before…

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Please leave me a review with what you liked, didn't like, what you're thinking, ext..


	9. Latenight cartoons and stories of the pa...

Phew! Nine pages, guys. _Nine_. Spoiled brats, all of you. laughs

Hopefully you guys will really like this chapter- it explains a lot of background, and well.. you'll see. And it's all slowly building up, so pay attention!

Please read and review, as always. Reviews make me write faster, and those of you who review every chapter earn brownie points!

Andrea

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Chapter 9: Late-night cartoons and stories of the past

Dawn woke up early Tuesday morning, well before her alarm clock was due to go off. She lay in bed for a minute or two and wondered why she was awake. She had no clue, but felt restless. Pulling her bathrobe on over her nightgown, she picked up the two red books off her dresser, and walked out into the still dark hallway.

The house was completely quiet as she walked down the hallway to the small bedroom she had renovated the year before into a small studio. She flicked on the light and sat down in the oversized, worn-leather armchair in the corner that had been around as long as she could remember. Sitting down Indian-style in the chair, she settled down and began to read Heather's book.

The girl, with the help of the dwarf she'd befriended, had narrowly escaped another encounter with the Goblin King; this time they'd been chased down by a twirling wall of knives and daggers- "the Cleaners." After getting lost in the twists and turns, and speaking with a wise man, they were currently wandering the maze again. They'd just heard great roaring growls coming from a bend in the path ahead of them…

Dawn closed the book and placed it on the small table next to the chair. Looking across the room, she spied her small easel against the wall, covered in a transparent plastic sheet. Uncrossing her legs, she stood up, and padded over to it. With a flick of her wrist, she pulled the sheet off of the easel, and stared at the blank canvas waiting underneath for a few moments.

Making up her mind, Dawn dug through her box of paintbrushes and found a smallish sized one. Unscrewing the tops of a few tubes of oil paints, she picked up her palette and squeezed out small piles of paint onto the pale wood. After pushing the paint around for a few minutes, she tilted her head, brought up an arm, and carefully placed an uneven line of paint down the canvas.

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A loud, harsh ringing sometime later pulled Dawn's attention away from her work. Pausing, arm still held up in the air, she heard Heather stirring in her bedroom, shut off her alarm clock, and trudged downstairs. Figuring she'd better follow and make sure Heather got ready for school on time, Dawn cleaned her paintbrush and carefully laid it down next to her palette. Gathering up her bathrobe, she sauntered downstairs.

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The rest of the week passed fairly uneventfully for the trio. Dawn saw Heather off to school each morning while across the street Rob left for work, and they both returned at different times later in the evening. Dawn read, painted, and looked after Sam during the day, and Rob was always invited over for dinner each night. And as promised, after he returned from work he helped with whatever needed repainted, repaired, replaced around the house.

They worked on the house every evening and by Friday night the entire front of the house had been repainted, as well as the two sides. They were getting ready to paint the back of the house and the shed the next day.

Dawn again found herself waking up very early that Saturday morning. She lay in bed for a moment, taking in her surroundings. No noises to disturb her, no light even shone in the window yet to wake her, she was just _awake_. Groaning, she sat up, flung off the covers, and felt around with her toes until she found her fuzzy pink bunny slippers. Grabbing her bathrobe, she stepped out into the hallway.

Heather's bedroom door was still closed as Dawn tiptoed past, so she figured she must still be sleeping. As she quietly crept downstairs, Dawn had a sudden thought: she could make a big breakfast, and invite Rob over. It was Saturday, so he didn't have to go to work, and he'd be over soon enough anyways to help finish painting... Yes.. and Heather would love that.

Dawn paused midway on the stairs as she realized she would like that too. Smiling, she continued downstairs.

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Nine of the twelve eggs were left in the little cardboard carton, one package of bacon slices, a loaf of bread for French toast, a small bottle of maple syrup, one box of pancake mix, flour, sugar, various spices, the plastic pitcher of orange juice in the fridge..

Dressed in her nightgown, bathrobe loosely tied at the waist, Dawn took stock of all things on hand, then began quietly rummaging through the kitchen for the various pots, pans, and other utensils she'd need. Dawn wanted Heather to sleep in as long as possible so she could get as much finished as she could before that boundless source of energy erupted from her bedroom. When everything was nearly finished, she'd wake her daughter up, and call Rob to come over.

Grabbing a large bowl, Dawn set it on the counter and quickly rifled through her recipe box: cinnamon rolls. Usually she never made them because they took so long to prepare. But today.. She deftly measured out and combined all the ingredients, then kneaded the dough until it was the right consistency. Dumping the dough ball into a bowl, she covered it with a clean towel and set it on top of the stove to rise.

Washing her hands and drying them on a new towel, she bent over to pull a pan out from one of the lower cabinets. Suddenly, she heard the back door slam shut, and dropping the pan with a loud _clang_, whirled around, startled.

"_Rob!_" She stared at him, surprised.

"Dawn?" Frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, he still had one hand on the doorknob. He unconsciously looked down at her before pulling himself together and averting his eyes. Quickly following his gaze, Dawn realized her bathrobe had come open at some point during her work in the kitchen, and though she had a nightgown on under the robe, she was still revealing quite a bit of skin. Blushing, she quickly pulled it shut and tied the waist, securely this time, in a knot.

"What are you.." she started asking, then flinched with a quick glance upstairs as she realized they were both being very loud. She crossed the room to him. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

Rob took in the scene behind her. "What you are already doing. I was going to surprise you both and make breakfast again." Dawn couldn't suppress her grimace, and Rob laughed. "Was it that bad?"

Dawn shook her head no, then yes. "You've got the basics down.." she tried to console him.

"And now I just need to learn how to cook?" Rob finished, a twinkle in his eye. Dawn gave him a silly grin. He waved a hand in the general direction of the kitchen. "Care to show me how?"

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A few hours later, the cinnamon rolls were baking in the oven, a plate of hot bacon was cooling on the table, and another plate next to that was piled high with warm pancakes and French toast.

"…And you have to crack the eggs carefully," Dawn showed Rob how; first rapping it gently on the counter, then carefully splitting the shell and emptying the contents into a bowl, "or you end up getting eggshells when you take a bite." Rob nodded as he watched. She helped him crack and empty the remaining eggs until she was sure he could do it on his own. "Now," she said, putting a small skillet on the stovetop and handing him a wooden spoon, "you have to heat the pan," and she showed him how to turn it on to medium heat. "Go ahead and dump the eggs in, and keep stirring.."

She rummaged around in the spice cabinet and found two small bottles. "Salt and pepper." she held them both up. "Not red pepper." He nodded, smiling.

"Ooh, keep stirring the eggs or they'll burn." She quickly put her hand over his and showed him how to stir- not too fast, not too slow, but scraping the pans' surface the entire time. Neither seemed to be in any great hurry to remove their hand from the other's, so they kept stirring, together. The eggs quickly finished cooking, and Dawn emptied the pan out onto a plate, which she set on the counter.

"There." Smiling, she looked back up at Rob and was suddenly aware how close they were. Rob looked down at her upturned face and smiled back at her, gently touching her cheek with the back of his curled fingers.

That long, dark brown hair, those beautiful almond-shaped brown eyes..

For a moment, his face had relaxed and Dawn could feel the sense of loss, and longing, behind his eyes. He looked vulnerable, and utterly alone.

"You look just like your mother.." he started, wistfully, then suddenly froze, his hand stiff against her cheek.

"What?" Dawn pulled back slightly, alarmed.

Rob quickly, perhaps too quickly, brought his hand down away from her face and turned. "You look like your mother," he stated again. "The pictures.. In the living room." He pointed in that general direction.

"Oh." Dawn belatedly remembered him looking at them the week before, while they'd been upstairs getting dressed. "Right." She grimaced, feeling rather the idiot. She looked back up at him and gave a weak smile. "I've been told that often, actually.. Thank you."

He nodded, then cocked his head and listened. "I think someone is awake."

"Really? I don't hear.." Distant footfalls, growing steadily louder, met her ears. "Ah." She turned and picked up the plate of eggs off the counter. "Good. Because breakfast is ready!"

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The three of them ate the wonderful breakfast Dawn and Rob had made, and not one eggshell was found.

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After breakfast, Heather excitedly chattered to Rob while Dawn excused herself to get dressed, then the three headed outside to finish painting the house.

It was hot work; though there was a nice breeze blowing, it was still well over eighty degrees, and the sun was bearing down on them, but by lunch time they had the last side of the house finished.

Being the cleanest, and therefore the least likely to drop paint splatters all over, Dawn went inside to make sandwiches and get lemonade while Heather and Rob took a break on the front porch. The front door was open, and through the screen door Dawn could hear her daughter's laughter.

"Yeah, and it farts!" she giggled.

"Really?" Rob asked, surprised.

"Uh huh. And it smells, really bad, but he doesn't mind. He's supposed to guard the bridge, no matter what."

"Oh, I see.."

"But you know what? I kinda think it's like London bridge in that song… It falls down. It must not have been built very well," she said seriously.

"Or maybe it was just very, very old."

Dawn pushed the screen door open with a hip, and walked out balancing a plate piled with sandwiches on one hand, a stack of three plastic cups tucked under her arm, and a blue pitcher of lemonade in the other hand. Rob quickly stood up and relieved her of the cups and lemonade.

They all sat down on the swing at the end of the porch, and Dawn passed out sandwiches.

"A fluffernutter for you," she said, and passed one to Heather.

"A chicken sandwich for me," she put one to the side of the plate, "and I didn't know what type you would want," she said to Rob. "Any preference?"

He looked down at Heather's quickly-disappearing sandwich. "What exactly is a fluffy-nutter?"

"It's a fluffernutter." Heather piped up. "It's like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but it's got marshmallow cream instead of jelly. They're good."

"They're messy," Dawn warned, and gestured to her sticky-smeared child. Heather just grinned.

Rob looked at Dawn. "I was never overly fond of chicken, so let's try the fluffy-nutter."

A half an hour later, they had finished their lemonade and sandwiches, and covered in white smears (Dawn couldn't tell what was paint and what was marshmallow), they went back to work.

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Tired, covered in paint smears, and slightly sunburned, the three wearily made their way inside later that night. They'd finished painting the garage, so Heather happily announced that they were entirely done with painting. This just prompted groans from the adults, who were sore from having done most of the painting, and didn't want to have to think of another drop of it for years to come.

Dawn sent Heather upstairs to shower and get into pajamas while they waited for a frozen pizza to bake in the oven. By the time the pizza had finished baking, Rob and Dawn had the table set for three, laid out wine glasses for two, a glass of chocolate milk for one, and Heather had finished showering and came downstairs. Hungry from the day's work, they quickly finished the pizza.

Because it was a Saturday, and since their whole day had been spent working, Dawn let Heather stay up and watch cartoons again. The three of them sat together on the couch; Heather on the left side and Dawn on the right, with Rob sitting between them. Heather quickly finished her chocolate milk, and during a commercial, ran her glass to the kitchen sink, then ran back so she could sit next to Rob again. Snuggling up next to him, she put her head on his arm and continued to watch cartoons. Dawn watched Rob's reaction to this and smiled when he simply adjusted to make her more comfortable, lifting his arm to put it around the small girl.

While Heather was deeply engrossed in her cartoons, Dawn and Rob continued to slowly drink their wine, refilling glasses as needed from the bottle Dawn had left on the coffee table in front of the couch. While the cartoons were not incredibly entertaining to them, they were content to simply relax and let the alcohol slowly numb their sore bodies.

Another long cartoon show ended and Rob looked up at the clock above the TV. In the dimly lit room, he could just make out that it read two in the morning. He looked down at Heather, and was not surprised to see her asleep, leaning heavily against him, mouth slightly open. Leaning forward carefully, he put his empty glass down and picked up the wine bottle.

"Would you care for.." he started whispering, then looked at Dawn. She too, was asleep, her head leaning back against the couch. Her almost-empty glass was held precariously in one hand, so he gently relieved her of it, and set it on the coffee table next to his. Rob took off his glasses, placed them gently on the table, and gently moved Dawn so she was leaning against him. She stirred in her sleep slightly when he put his arm back down around her, but quieted. Sighing, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

-----------------------

Dawn felt the first vague glimmers of consciousness as she stirred slightly, stretching one arm and putting it back down as she made herself comfortable again. She squeezed her warm pillow gently and jumped when it moved. Making herself wake up, she sat up and realized they'd fallen asleep on the couch. The clock said it was three thirty in the morning, and the TV was still on. Rob was leaning back against the couch, a pillow propped up under his head, snoring lightly. Heather was curled up in a ball on Rob's left, her head placed on his leg. They both looked so serene.

Smiling, and wishing she had a camera, she shut the TV off, picked up the wine bottle and took it to the kitchen. She quietly made her way back and picked up the two glasses, when she noticed Rob looking at her.

"Care to guess which one of you two fell asleep first?" he whispered, grinning.

Dawn smiled and shook her head. "No, I'm sure it was close though." She bent down and moved the coffee table out of the way so she could walk between it and the couch more easily. "Here, I'll take her upstairs."

"No, no, it's okay." Rob carefully lifted Heather's head from his leg and gently placed it back down on the couch. "I'll carry her." Standing up, he carefully slipped his hands under her and lifted her as if she were feather-light. "Can you lead the way?" Dawn nodded, forgetting he'd never been upstairs.

She walked a few feet ahead of him, turning on a light here or there so he could see. They got to Heather's room and she opened the door, then pulled back the covers on the bed. Rob had to walk through the door sideways carrying the girl, but made it, and gently placed her in her bed. Dawn pulled the covers up to her shoulders, and they quietly left the room, shutting the door behind them.

"Thank you," Dawn told him.

"You're very welcome." He looked around a little bit.

"Oh! Let me show you the place. It's not much, but its been in the family for years." She padded down the hallway, and he followed her. "You've seen Heather's room now, and this is just storage closet.." she passed one door.

"Here is our other bathroom," she pushed one door open and flipped on the light. A small, but functional bathroom. "Nothing spectacular." He nodded, so she flipped off the light and kept walking.

"And this was a bedroom, but I made it into my studio." She flipped the light on and walked inside.

Rob took in the furnishings; a small easel table covered with paints, brushes, and a canvas, an old leather chair, and several small shelving units containing supplies and various odds and ends. His eyes roamed back to the table with the canvas and he walked forward to it. Several finished paintings hung on the wall above it.

"You do these?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Dawn nodded. "They're.. wow, they're amazing."

Dawn blushed. "Thank you."

He examined each painting carefully, astounded. One showed a stretch of coastline, sparsely covered with sea-grass and shells, the ocean and a beautiful sunset on the horizon. "That one I saw in a travel magazine and thought it was beautiful. I'm not sure where it is but I'd love to find out and go there someday." Rob nodded.

The one above that showed a small baby with almost white hair, wrapped up in a pink blanket. Her eyes were wide open, taking in her surroundings.

Dawn smiled. "That's Heather, when she was just born. We had her picture taken and I made that during the next few months, during the days when she would sleep…

"This one up here," she pointed to the top-most canvas, which showed a several small tents, lots of pine trees, and a lake in the background, "is of a small town in northern Michigan. We went camping there when I was a small girl, and I always loved it. It's very scenic." She pointed to the one beneath that. "That one, you can tell, is another painting of Heather."

Rob smiled. This one must have been done recently; a slightly younger version of the child sleeping in the other room was sitting on the swing on the front porch, covered in a white substance.

"If I had to guess what the white smears are, I'd say.. oh, fluffy-nutter?" Dawn nodded, grinning. Rob nodded again.

He looked at the last painting that was hanging on the wall and his heart stopped for a moment. "Who is this?" he asked, managing not to sound too surprised.

Dawn gave him a wry grin. "This ugly character is my interpretation of one of the people in Heather's book she's having me read." Rob nodded. Everything, from the weathered, wrinkly face, to that hideous vest he always insisted on wearing, was perfect. She'd painted _Hoggle_.

"I see."

Dawn laughed. "Well don't sound so enthusiastic about it! I know he's not the best of my paintings, but more are in the works.." she winked at him.

"May I see them?" he asked, curiosity piqued after the last painting.

"Nuh-uh. No one gets to see my pictures until they're all finished. They don't look right otherwise."

"Oh."

She turned and started walking out of the room. "Come on, I've still got a bit more to show you.."

Rob made himself turn and follow her, but kept his eyes glued to that painting until he was around the corner. At which point he nearly ran her over. She'd stopped just inside the doorway of the next room.

"And this is my room."

This bedroom was mostly unchanged from the previous years. The carpet and wallpaper had been replaced with new at some point, but everything else was mostly the same. A large bed sat in the middle of the room, nightstands on either side of it. Framed pictures on the wall showed Dawn's family; her daughter, her mother, a dark haired man he assumed was Dawn's father, and another fairer-haired man, and an elderly couple together in one frame. This photo appeared the oldest of them all, so he guessed that was Dawn's uncle and grandparents. The only thing that had really changed was the occupant.

"Very nice." He walked over to the photos on the wall. "Ah, yes, there's the photo you meant of Heather as a baby." Dawn nodded. "It looks just like your canvas."

"Thank you."

Rob perused the other faces in the pictures. "I recognize your mother from the pictures in the living room.." he looked back at Dawn. "But who are the others, if you don't mind my asking?"

Dawn shook her head. "Not at all. Here's my mother and father, Jake. This picture is of my Uncle Toby, and my grandparents, Karen and Robert. They're all deceased though." She sighed and flopped down on the bed. "It's just me and Heather now. But we're doing okay." This she seemed to say to herself more than Rob.

Rob looked back at the pictures, specifically the one of Sarah, Dawn and Heather together, and the one of Dawn holding an infant daughter in the hospital.

"Has he passed on, as well?" he asked quietly.

"Who?" Dawn asked, rising and stepping closer to hear him.

"Heather's father," he clarified. He looked at Dawn and she seemed crushed.

"Oh." She said quietly, and sat back down on the bed, looking at her hands. Rob waited for a minute, not sure if she would answer.

"No." she replied softly after a minute or two. She looked back up at Rob. "No," she repeated more firmly. "Heather has never known her father…" her voice grew harsher. "And I barely did."

Rob, at a loss for words, stood there, silent.

Dawn looked up at him suddenly. "Here, have a seat," she said quietly, and patted the bed. He did, and she stood up, walked across the room, and picked up a large book from one of her bookshelves. She walked back over to the bed and sat down next to him. Opening it, she turned a few pages and handed it to him.

"Almost nine years ago, one of my friends was having a big Halloween party at her house for a bunch of friends. It was a masquerade party, so we had to dress up." She pointed to a few pictures of people in costumes, all smiling behind various masks or makeup. Rob assumed Dawn was the woman wearing a short, forest-green dress. He supposed she was supposed to be a fairy or something along that lines; she sported wings, had her hair styled nicely in curls, and carried a glittery wand.

"Everyone had fun, and after they had all gone home, me and my friend went to a bar right up the road from my apartment for a drink. It was crazy. Since it was Halloween, everyone there was dressed up. Even the bartenders had headbands with cat ears, and a tail or something." He saw a few more pictures; Dawn in her green dress and her friend, dressed as a tiger, posing together in one shot. More random people populated the other pictures.

"My friend had to work early the next day, so she left early and drove home. Since I lived right up the road, I decided to stay for a while longer."

Rob nodded. He could tell this story was becoming harder for her to tell; her voice was still clear, but she was having to take small pauses before speaking.

"I'd had a few drinks, but was nowhere near drunk. The bar started emptying out as people had to leave, and I was almost ready to leave too when the bartender put a drink on the counter in front of me and told me it was from a man sitting up the bar. I looked and there was a dark-haired man, dressed all in black, with a crow's mask on. I waved him over, and thanked him for the drink. We started talking; he was very polite, and friendly, and we really seemed to hit it off right away.

"The bar closed, so everyone had to go home. I'd had such a good time with him, I decided to ask him if he'd like to come back to my apartment for a little while. He agreed, and we went home and just kept talking. We really had a phenomenal connection, it was amazing." She took a deep breath and Rob held out his hand for hers. She took it gratefully and continued. "We kept talking, late into the night, and by the end of the night I knew I had to see him again. He.." her voice grew harder again, "he told me he loved me. That I was different from all the girls he ever knew, and that he would spend eternity with me if he could." Rob nodded.

"We ended up sleeping together," she grimaced. "I don't know why, I'd never do something like that, especially with someone from a _bar_, but something about this man, I just _knew_ we'd be together in the end. I believed his declarations of love."

Rob sat still and listened to her words, rubbing his thumb over her fingers as he held her hand.

"At some point afterwards he looked at the clock and couldn't believe how late it was. He said he had to leave. I tried to give him my phone number, but he said it wouldn't work. He'd find me again, soon. He quickly dressed, told me he loved me, said he'd find me again, and left.

"I waited for him. Other than work, I went right home every day, wanting to be there when he showed up again. I went to the bar too, almost daily at first. Asked the bartender every day if anyone had been looking for me, if any of them had seen a dark haired man. They always said no.

"I hung onto the hope that he would show up for weeks. I guess one day it finally sunk in. He wasn't coming back. It wasn't long after that that I knew I was pregnant." She hung her head. "I had to tell my mom. I couldn't do it over the phone, I had to drive up here to tell her in person. She helped out as much as she could while I was pregnant, and I ended up quitting my job and moving closer to her house."

Rob could feel her shaking. She was struggling to retain control at this point.

"When Heather was born, I could only tell the hospital the first name of her father," she choked out. "Twenty-nine years old or not, it didn't matter. I was unmarried, living on my own, and didn't have a clue how to start tracking this guy down to tell him he was a father, if he even cared." And she started crying.

Rob put the book of photos aside on the bed and pulled Dawn to him. She flung her arms around him and buried her head into his shoulder, trying to quiet her sobs. He just held her and let her cry, knowing that she'd needed someone to listen to her for some time. She'd been alone for a long time.

Rob thought over what she'd said. He knew people were sometimes ruthless, lying and manipulating to get what they desired.. But if he ever met this dark-haired man.. He hadn't known Dawn and Heather that long, but he already felt a fierce urge to protect them. Against anything, anyone, anywhere. They already felt like family.

After a short while her sobs faded, and she quieted entirely, though he could still feel her body jerking. She didn't quite have her breathing under control yet. He rubbed her back and just held her in a hug. She eventually slowed her breathing, and gave him a hug.   
"Thank you," she said quietly.

Rob just nodded.

Dawn sat up and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Well," she gave a weak smile, "now you know how Heather came to be."

"I'm so sorry," Rob finally managed.

Dawn quickly shook her head. "No, don't be. Heather is the best thing in my life."

"I didn't mean Heather." He looked at her hand he still held and squeezed it. "I meant you." He looked up at her. "I'm sorry that anyone would ever do that to you."

Dawn shrugged. "I guess bad things happen to a lot of good people." She wiped her eyes again. "But that was a long time ago. Heather and I are so lucky to have you, Rob." She leaned forward and gave him another hug. "You're her 'honorary grandpa,' she says."

Rob smiled. A grandpa.

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And now for those of you who've read this far, a treat to keep you reading. Though it will probably be edited (heavily?!), here's a bit that's coming up..

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Jareth charged up the stairs to his bedchambers, taking them three and four at a time, not caring if he was being loud or drawing unwanted stares. Throwing open the door at the top, he strode into his room, and walked straight to a bureau against the far wall. Yanking his pendant over his head, he fit the shape into the recessed area and turned it, triggering the locking mechanism. He pulled open the bottom drawer and immediately found what he sought: a small, plain wooden box. He passed his hand over the box, and it opened, revealing a small crystal ball. A specific crystal ball. One he hadn't laid eyes on in over a year.

Picking up the sphere, he gazed into it.

"Show me what she saw!" he demanded.

-----

Jareth dropped the ball.

She knew she was going to die, and that it was too late for Jareth to save her…

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Hehe, I'm evil. Please read and review. Ask nicely, and I may give you a hint. ;-)


	10. Paranoia, Lobster, and Guilt

Ok, Sorry it's taken a while for this chapter, but that's because these are turning points and I couldn't decide if I had to make one long chapter, or if it would still make sense in two chapters, so I made it two, and am just posting them at the same time! Pay close attention boys and girls! grin Please R&R as always.

Andrea

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Chapter 10: Paranoia, Lobster, and Guilt

Even though he lived right across the street, because it was so late, Dawn offered to let Rob have her bedroom for the night and she'd sleep on the couch downstairs.

Rob outright refused.

"I appreciate your hospitality, but I will not put you out like that. The couch will work fine for me," he insisted.

"Come on, that couch is lumpy and not very comfortable. And besides, age before beauty," she teased. Rob gave her a mock glare.

"These bones aren't as old as you think!"

This argument continued on for a few minutes until it finally ended when Rob ultimately agreed to take Dawn's bedroom.

"Thank you," she said, turning her back to him and starting to pull down the covers on the bed for him. As soon as her back was to him, Rob turned and darted out the door, shutting it behind him, ran downstairs, and flopped onto the couch.

From where he was lying downstairs in the darkness, Rob could hear Dawn's sigh of exasperation. He heard her bedroom door open; the light from her room lit the hallway and the stairs, then heard it close; the light went out again, drenching the house in darkness. The stairs squeaked slightly as she made her way downstairs, then the footfalls stopped at the base of the stairs. Though he couldn't see her in the dark, he could well imagine her standing there, hands on hips, giving him a sour look.

"So you really want the couch, huh?"

Rob nodded, then remembered she couldn't see him either. "Yes, it will do fine. Thank you for the offer though."

He could imagine her rolling her eyes at the innate stubbornness of all men as she turned and walked back upstairs, each stair squeaking slightly underfoot. Halfway up she stopped.

"Goodnight, Rob."

"Goodnight."

The squeaks continued up the rest of the staircase, he saw the bedroom light flick on, then off, as she opened and closed her door. Grabbing a pillow and rearranging his long body on the couch, he quickly fell asleep.

----------

Dawn woke that morning laying again on the left side of the bed. Before she could roll over, she heard the phone downstairs. Groaning, she quickly grabbed her bathrobe and put it on as she flew down the stairs to the phone in the kitchen.

"Hello?"

Dawn listened to the voice on the other end as she played with a lock of her hair. "Yes, uh huh." She glanced into the living room and saw Rob stretched out on the couch. He had one leg hanging off the couch, the other propped up over one of the arms. He had used one of the small decorative pillows to rest his head on, and generally looked very uncomfortable. Well, she _had _offered him the bed upstairs..

"I'm sorry?" The voice on the end of the phone sounded slightly annoyed as it repeated the question. Dawn felt bad for ignoring them, so she turned her attention back to the conversation, and stopped ogling Rob.

"Yes, I'm sure she'd love that. Yes, that's fine. Thank you. Goodbye." She hung up the phone. Marching back upstairs, she went to wake Heather.

----------

Dawn waved at Heather as the van pulled away full of noisy children. The phone call earlier had been a bit surprising, though welcomed. One of Heather's friends from school, Ashley, was inviting a bunch of children over to her house to play for the day. While it wasn't often that Heather was invited over to places, she did have a few friends she liked to have over. Dawn had met this particular little girl before, and her mother seemed very nice.

When the van had turned the corner at the end of the road, Dawn turned and walked back inside the house. After stopping in the kitchen long enough to pour a glass of orange juice, she stopped and leaned against the doorway into the living room. Rob was still stretched out, sleeping peacefully. Smiling as she took a drink from her glass, she turned and walked upstairs to her studio room.

Curling up in the oversized leather chair in the corner, she started reading.

The girl had gotten amazingly far in her venture- she'd befriended a great, shaggy red beast and a small fox-like creature (so _this_ was the 'Didymus' character Heather carried around), and was very close to reaching the castle, and her brother. She'd just been drugged by a laced peach, given to her by the Goblin King, and was currently wandering through a large ballroom, full of masked dancers. She was searching, though for who or what she did not know.

Until she saw _him_.

He was a gorgeous creature; with blonde hair that hung delicately around his face like the halo that surrounded the moon on a cloudy night. His face seemed more a fine-featured mask made of porcelain, too perfect and flawless to be real. His eyes, mismatched orbs of fathomless blue, seemed to stare straight into your soul.

He strode forward from the throng of dancers, dressed in a midnight blue frock coat, and it seemed as if the sea had just parted for this solitary man to make his way to her. The girl stared in awe as he stepped up to her, and took her in his arms for a dance…

Dawn placed her bookmark between the pages and sighed. It must be nice to find such a handsome, sophisticated man before you, even if he was your rival moments before. Men like that did not just stumble into your life everyday, so Dawn guessed if she ever found one, she'd cling to him like grim death. She put the book down on the table next to her and picked up her mother's diary.

All she'd been reading so far was an abundance of the every-day occurrences of an average fifteen year old girl. She'd go to school, stop by her favorite park and rehearse whatever play she'd been reading last, and come home to baby-sit. She did seem to have a lack of male interests in her life, but she seemed completely happy being engrossed in her world of make-believe and fantasy.

Dawn sighed. It was boring.

She flipped ahead through the pages until the dated heading of one page caught her eye. This journal entry had been written almost seventy years ago today. Repositioning herself in the chair, she started reading again.

Dear diary,

I just had a nightmare I do not think I will forget for quite some time. It was mostly horrible- I wished Toby away to the Goblin King. I had to find my way through a huge maze of bushes and stone walls and I had a few friends to help me, but the whole time the Goblin King was trying to stop me. I was chased by a wall of knives, attacked by armed goblins, almost beheaded by a wild tribe of… creatures. It was all his fault. I never meant to wish Toby away, but he came and stole him anyways.

But it wasn't all bad. I was strong, and though it seemed impossible at first, I found my way through the maze. I won Toby back from the King. He tried bribing me at the end. He held out a crystal to me again and offered me my dreams, but I didn't reach out and take it. I woke up from my alarm for school going off…

The entry continued, but Dawn had read enough. She knew her mother loved rehearsing plays, but never knew she'd done it so much that she was having nightmares about wishing her brother away. Dawn wondered if her mother had ever had any nightmares about plotting to kill someone.. she knew Mac Beth had been one of her favorites too. Curious, Dawn flipped a few pages to a later entry.

Dear diary,

I do not know why, but I've dreamt of him_ again._

I'm really confused. I mean, it was all a dream, I know it was, but if that is so, why do I keep thinking of Jareth?

Dawn frowned. Jareth? She hadn't heard that name mentioned so far in her reading. She wondered if her mom had finally found a boy at school she fancied.

I do not understand it. I am fifteen years old but not interested in any of the boys I know from school,

that ruled out Dawn's theory,

or see in town. Why is it that the only guy I can think of is the man who stole my baby brother from me?

Ah, Jareth must be the name of the Goblin King in the story. Her mother had already had another nightmare with him involved in an entry a few weeks earlier.

Why do I keep thinking of him? It's crazy. I'll be taking Merlin on a walk and I can't help but keep looking around, as if he's going to jump out of the shadows at me. And it's not just that- I have to look up too! I used to love taking Merlin on walks later at night so I could see the stars… now I'm just paranoid.

Dawn frowned. Her mother had someone stalking her? She thought she was talking about the story.. Confused, she kept reading.

Jareth is cunning. I know he can change shape into an owl, and has even altered his form in other ways so I couldn't recognize him- like the beggar with the coin cup in the maze. I do not doubt that he can change his entire appearance to suit his needs, and I hope I never come across him again. I probably wouldn't even recognize him until it was too late…

Thoroughly confused, Dawn put the diary down on the table next to Heather's book.

What had she just read?

Dawn knew that her mother had died with new scars on her body- scars shaped exactly like the crescent pendant the king wore in Heather's story. But her mother's diary was a near mirror-image of the story itself. She wrote about the maze, and its occupants, almost constantly now. And she seemed certain that the villain from the story was stalking her.

What was going on? Her mother had never had any history of mental illness, and though her imagination could get the better of her at times, she sounded too scared for Dawn to believe that it was all just in her head…

And the scars? She was sure they were not her mother's doing. How would an eighty-year-old woman burn so perfect a shape into her skin, and have it heal overnight? No, Dawn thought. There was more to these two books than she yet knew. Just _what_?

She looked up at the clock on the wall; one thirty, it read, Heather would be back in about seven hours. As if a light suddenly went off in her mind, Dawn got up and ran out of the room.

-----------

Rob woke up to the sunlight pouring in the windows down on his face. Wiping the mess of hair back from his face, he sat up. The living room clock told him it was already two o'clock. Since it was not dark out, he could only assume that meant he'd just slept the entire morning away. He quickly stood up and searched for the girls.

When he found the kitchen and downstairs bathroom empty, he headed upstairs. The door to Heather's room was open- the bed was made and her Didymus toy was missing from its usual spot on the dresser- so he continued on down the hallway. He almost walked right past Dawn- she was in the other bathroom, with the door open, putting on a bit of makeup. She paused long enough in applying eye shadow to greet him.

"Good morning."

"Hello. Where's Heather?" he looked around.

"Oh, one of her friends from school stopped by earlier to take her to the park. They'll drop her off later tonight, around nine or so."

"Oh," then, "Why'd you let me sleep so late?"

She shrugged. "Because you needed it." She put the eye shadow away and rimmed her lips with a shimmery mauve-colored lipstick. "I suspect the two of us have been running you ragged, what with all this work and everything.."

He opened his mouth to object when he realized she was joking. A slight grin tugged at the corner of her mouth as she put her lipstick away. She put in her earrings and turned towards Rob and he realized she was dressed up nicely- she wore a white top, dress pants, and sleek sandals. Her hair was also neatly braided, something that would have taken her a bit of time, since she had to do it herself.

"Now let's go and get you dressed, or did you want to go in that?" she asked, and pointed to his sleep-wrinkled, paint spattered jeans and white t-shirt.

----------

Dawn pulled the front door shut behind her and locked it. Smiling at the beautiful red blossom on the end of her spindly little rose bush, she turned to Rob.

"Do you have any nice outfits?"

He nodded as they walked across the street to his house. "I've a few decent ones.." he trailed off, trying to persuade her for more information.

"Good, go put one on." They'd reached Rob's house.

"Sure, but can you stay out here? Sam will go crazy if he thinks you've come to visit and we leave again." Dawn nodded, and Rob went inside to change. A few minutes later he came back out, dressed in a decent, if slightly outdated looking suit. Dawn looked him up and down and nodded her approval.

"Ready?" she asked him.

"Sure, just one thing."

Dawn looked at him.

"_Where are we going?_"

Dawn grinned.

----------

They got into her car and started driving. Dawn was unusually quiet, though her eyes sparkled and she was trying to suppress a grin the entire time. Rob finally bugged her again.   
"So _where_ are we going?" Dawn smiled for a moment more, then finally caved.

"I have one quick stop I have to make afterwards, but it's been so long since I've been able to go somewhere in such good company, _without kids_, that I figured we'd go out to dinner." She turned and grinned at him.

"Oh." His face fell a little.

"What's wrong?"

Rob avoided her eyes. "Well, it's just that I've just moved, and work hasn't been that great yet, and…" Dawn shook her head.

"No, no, it's all my treat, don't worry about anything. I called ahead of time and got us reservations for six at a nice restaurant upstate."

Rob was still quiet, though he did look at her.

"It's my way of saying thanks." He finally nodded.

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Dawn finally parked the car almost an hour later. "We're here," she looked at Rob, who was looking out the window. "Well, let's try and have a bit of fun tonight, huh?" she gave him a small smile. He returned the smile. "We can eat, and drink, and dance.. Well, maybe not in that order," she laughed. Rob got out of the car and walked around to the driver's side, and helped Dawn out of the car. After offering her his arm, he looked around at the strands of lights hung everywhere, the exotic trees and flowers, and all of the expensive-looking cars parked around them. They walked inside and were quickly seated by the maí tre d'.

"What did you say this place was called?" He took a drink of water and looked down at the name etched on the wineglasses on the table just as she told him.

"Chez Nicholas."

He choked on the water he was drinking and started coughing slightly. "Chez _Nicholas_?"

Dawn nodded, alarmed. "Have you been here before?"

"No," Rob quickly shook his head. "No. I think I just know the person who owns it…"

"Oh. Would he be here tonight?"

"No, he hasn't lived in this area in quite some time now…"

"Oh."

The waiter came and gave them both menus.

"And may I get you a drink?" he asked Rob.

"Um.." he quickly looked at the menu, then up at Dawn, looking a bit lost.

"He'll take a vodka martini," she quickly spoke up for him, "and I'd like a Cosmopolitan." The waiter nodded and left.

Rob looked over the menu, and recognized a few items, mostly chicken and pork dishes, but quite a few were completely alien to him.

"Mahi-mahi with mango salsa, pork tenderloin with lime salsa, fillit mig-non?" Dawn heard him muttering under his breath. He finally looked up at Dawn, who was silently reading over her own menu.   
"Would the 'lobster' be good?" Dawn nodded, and kept reading. Rob looked up as the waiter came back with their drinks.

"Are we all set, or would you like more time?" he asked. Rob looked at Dawn. She nodded.

"Ok, I would like to try the 'lobster.'" The waiter nodded, and took his menu.

"And for the lady?"

Dawn handed her menu to the man. "Yes, I would like the fillet mignon." He nodded, and walked away.

They talked and drank and listened to the man playing piano in the corner of the room until their orders came.

The waiter returned, and placed Dawn's filet mignon in front of her, then placed the lobster in front of Rob. Dawn thanked the man, and he left. After pulling out the rosemary "tree" standing in the center as decoration, Dawn picked up her fork and knife and cut through the bacon-wrapped cutlet. Still pink in the center, just how she liked it. Midway through another cut, she looked up at Rob.

She almost laughed at the horrified look on his face. He was staring at the lobster, gently lifting the fan-shaped tail with his knife, investigating the belly. He didn't seem to notice she was watching him as he gently poked at the lobster's eye stalks. He jumped when she finally spoke.

"Anything wrong?" She tried to keep the amusement out of her voice.

"This is a _lobster_?" She nodded. "It looks like a giant spider." This did earn a chuckle.

"I take it you were never much for seafood.." he shook his head.

"Before coming here, I lived in a pretty landlocked region." He leaned forward and whispered to her. "People actually _eat these_?" She nodded again, and showed him how to crack the shell with the little silver nutcracker utensil. After a few minutes, he finally speared a piece of the white meat and took a bite.

Dawn watched amusedly until he swallowed. "And?"

Rob raised his eyebrows. "It was… interesting."

Dawn smiled mischievously and leaning across the table, switched their plates.

----------

By the time their empty plates were taken away, they had both had a few drinks.

"Waiter, bring us your finest bottle of wine," Dawn asked, then caught his sleeve to stop him from leaving. "On second thought, don't bring us your finest. But bring us something nice."

"Make it a nice red." Rob added.

---------

The pair sipped their wine and talked the night away. At one point, the man playing the piano in the corner started up slow dancing music, and Dawn looked at Rob.   
"Ok, you know about wine, but not lobster. What do you know of dancing?" Her eyes twinkled.

"I know my fair share," he replied, and stood up, offering his arm. They walked out to the small wooden dance floor and started dancing. After several songs, Dawn raised an eyebrow.

"Why I am impressed."

"Oh?"

She nodded. He grinned, and twirled her around before pulling her back to him. She laughed.

"I feel like that girl in the story."

"Oh? What story's that?" He twirled her around again.

"Heather's book. The girl and the Goblin King dance in a gorgeous ballroom." Rob faltered in his dance steps.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and looked to see if he'd hurt his ankle.

"Yeah.. Can we go sit for a while again?" Dawn nodded, and they walked back to their table.

The rest of their night at the _Chez Nicholas _was spent drinking and talking, and though Dawn did not mention the book again, Rob remained fairly quiet, seemingly lost in thought.

----------

If the drive heading home seemed longer, maybe it was just because Rob and Dawn were both tired, or maybe it was because Rob was still abnormally quiet. They had left the restaurant and drove for a while before Dawn slowed the car and turned down a road Rob _did_ recognize.

"I'll keep this quick, but I just wanted to come and visit them."

Rob nodded. She'd turned down the road to the cemetery where her parents were buried. It was a weekend ritual, he should have expected it.

"Rob?" Dawn turned to him, suddenly a bit quiet and a bit pale. He looked at her.

"Would you mind coming with me this time? I've never been here alone before." Rob nodded, and she squeezed his hand. "Thank you." They both climbed out of the car and headed up towards the headstone. Rob stood a few feet back and let Dawn go up the headstone alone.

"Hi mom and dad," she said, and kneeled down, careful not to get her clothes stained on the grass, or get caught up in the spindly, naked-looking rose bush. She looked at her dad's name carved on the stone. "Heather's playing with some friends today, isn't that great? And I guess you can tell I brought someone again." She lowered her voice. "That is Rob. He's our neighbor, but the nicest man I have ever met. I hope it's okay that I'm getting to know him." She looked at her mom's name on the stone. "I wish you could have gotten to know him."

Rob watched Dawn from a few feet back. Her back was turned to him, and she was speaking low, so he could not hear what she was saying. Instead, he turned his gaze across the cemetery lawn. Hundreds of pale stone monuments sprouted up from the ground like odd, angular mushrooms. He supposed it hadn't really sunk in last time he was here, the fact that there was a person lying under every stone. It was staggering, really, when one stopped to ponder all the collective years, and experiences, that lay within the earth here.

His gaze eventually fell back on Dawn, kneeling in front of the stone. He let his eyes wander over her as she talked. Her tall, somewhat skinny form and her long dark hair, though neatly pulled back in a braid, reminded him once again of another woman. From where he stood, Dawn was blocking her father's name on the stone, and the word "Sarah" bore into his eyes like a red-hot brand.

Why had she died? Why was she taken from him at that crucial moment? In all his considerable years, he'd never really had to deal with death before that. What felt like a knife twisted through his heart; though the emotion wasn't very familiar to him, he recognized it as guilt. He felt moisture at the corners of his eyes and wiped it away, glad that Dawn's back was to him.

Would he really have been able to save her? He thought so, and always felt responsible for her death. He had thought he was over the worst of the pain, but apparently not. One moment of letting his mind reminisce was all that was needed to rip the scab over the wound open.

He also felt guilty because of his current predicament. Dawn and Heather. Because Sarah _had_ died, Dawn and Heather were still here. True, if she had lived they wouldn't have _died_, they simply would have _never been_, but it still put him in a rough spot. Wanting the one you loved, while knowing that if she were here, others you loved would not be.

Others he loved. Yes, he loved these two. He'd only meant to sort of "check in" on Sarah's daughter and granddaughter, to make sure that they were okay in life, and return to his duties, but he had really fallen for these two; more than he'd ever care to admit to anyone, much less himself. And every day, every minute, he was digging himself deeper and deeper in this mess. Moisture again collected at the corners of his eyes, and he fought to wipe it away.

Dawn, apparently having said what she'd wanted to, walked back to stand next to Rob, still looking at the headstone. She sighed.

"It's really hard to lose the ones you love," she said, looking down at the little rose bush they'd planted earlier. Rob, still trying to get himself under control, didn't reply.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you lose your wife?" Dawn asked quietly. When Rob didn't immediately answer, she looked up at him.

She was surprised to see that his face was red and blotchy, and tears had made little paths down his cheeks. More threatened to fall before he wiped them roughly away. He saw her looking at him and quickly looked away, as if ashamed to be found in this condition.

She quickly put her arms around him and pulled him to her in an embrace.

"_I'm sorry_," he managed to choke out, and squeezed her hard, as if his very life depended on that contact.

"It's okay, it's all right to cry." Her voice broke slightly as she tried not to be overcome with emotion also.

"It's all my fault she's gone." He kept rattling on, almost incoherently. He didn't care. He'd borne this weight, this burden, for too long. He had to get it off his chest.

"I should have seen it sooner. _I could have saved her. I could have done something_!" He could feel Dawn shaking her head as he held onto her.

"Nothing was your fault, Rob. Sometimes it's just a person's time to go. You couldn't have saved her." Rob was quiet, though she could still feel his body shaking from his sobs. She held him for a long time until his sobs lessened.

"It was cancer that took your wife," she finally spoke. "Wasn't it?" Rob was still quiet. She put her hands on his cheeks and made him look at her.

"Rob, it wasn't your fault. You have to believe me. Sometimes things happen for a reason, sometimes things work out for the best."

She looked into his deep blue eyes and he looked back at her brown ones.

"Okay?"

He nodded, and she wiped away the tears with her thumbs. He knew when Dawn had asked about his wife that she'd misunderstood his blabbering, but now that he thought about it, that was probably a good thing. Otherwise he would have had a lot of explaining to do right now.

----------

"I'm sorry about all this." Dawn told him as they drove home. "I'd just meant to stop in really quickly. I never thought it would have affected you like this.."

Rob shook his head. "It's okay. I didn't expect anything like that to happen. Sometimes," his voice choked slightly, "sometimes it just sneaks up on me." Dawn let one hand go from the steering wheel and squeezed his hand. She pulled the car into the garage, and they walked up to the front porch together.

"Goodnight, Dawn," Rob said quietly, then "thank you for tonight. I _did _have fun, even though I found out the hard way what a lobster was, and was pretty quiet…"

Dawn nodded.

"You're welcome," she replied, then looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he waved a hand, "it's nothing. Every once in a while the past seems to come roaring back at me," he sniffed. "I'm okay."

"Okay." she held her hand out to him and he squeezed it gently before turning to leave. "Goodnight, Rob." She turned and walked inside, shutting the door behind her.

Rob turned to leave but the single flower on the end of Dawn's rose bush caught his eye. He'd gotten so used to seeing it there that he never really thought about it. It had always been red, but tonight it was almost fully open and seemed to almost glow with blood-red fierceness in the pale lighting. It was beautiful; it looked like it had been there the entire time, from the moment the bush was planted.

----------

Rob walked slowly across the street to his house. Pulling his keys out of his pocket, he unlocked the door and went inside.

He walked through the empty house to the bedroom, hung his suit coat and pants on the hanger and put them back in the closet, and wearily lay down on the bed.

Dawn's laughing voice rang through his mind.

I feel like that girl in the story…

The girl and the Goblin King dance in a gorgeous ballroom…

He'd been having such a good time until she'd pointed out the obvious fact, that until then, he'd somehow managed to overlook. And when he realized what she said was true, it had hit him like a ton of bricks.

Sighing, he rolled over and punched his pillow into shape, trying to get comfortable.

How was he supposed to get back to his duties and responsibilities now? He'd grown too close to them, and he'd never seen it coming, never even thought about the possibility of it happening. Heather had never had a father-figure of any sort growing up, and she'd already grown very attached to him. Dawn had already had one man she trusted run off on her, how could he do that to her again? Just leave them, and get all the pain over with at once, like ripping off a wound's bandages?

He shook his head.

Things just weren't that simple now. He was mired too deep in this mess he'd made for himself.

What could he do? He had to return, he'd been away too long already, but he could not simply leave the girls. And it was no longer just for their sake. What did he have to return to? He lived alone, all that awaited him was a life of responsibility, loneliness, and sorrow, as he reflected on the past and how things might have been.

It's really hard to lose the ones you love, Dawn had said. How true.

He tried to get comfortable again, but stopped mid-roll and froze in place.

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If anyone had been standing outside and looking in the house's general direction, they would have seen a pale-colored owl take flight out the window. Luckily, no one was watching, and the owl flew quickly onward. He barely registered seeing a van pulled into the driveway across the street, dropping off Heather, he was so intent on reaching his destination.

After reaching sufficient height, the owl simply disappeared into the night.

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	11. Realization

Continuing on with it…

Andrea

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Chapter 11: Realization

Jareth reappeared outside his bedchamber windows and saw that they'd been closed by someone, against his direct orders. Squawking angrily, he flew to the main doors of the castle, morphed to his Fae body, and ran inside.

He ran down the hallways, taking corners at what would be considered a reckless speed, hoping that no one would be coming around the next bend. He came to the familiar staircase that led to his personal wing of the castle, and charged up the stairs to his bedchambers, taking them three and four at a time, not caring if he was being loud or drawing unwanted stares.

Throwing open the doors at the top, he strode into his bedroom, and walked straight to the bureau against the far wall. Yanking his pendant over his head he fit the silver and gold crescent shape into the recessed area and turned it, triggering the locking mechanism. He pulled open the bottom drawer and immediately found what he sought: a small, plain wooden box. He quickly passed one hand over the box and it opened, revealing a small crystal ball. A specific crystal ball. One he hadn't laid eyes on in over a year.

Picking up the sphere, he gazed into it.

"Show me what she saw!" he demanded.

The crystal brightened and showed a thirty-something year old Sarah holding the crystal Jareth had given her.

"_Can I see the future_?" _she asked it, her voice shaking slightly._

Jareth gasped where he was standing.

The crystal in her hand lit up but remained empty, waiting for a specific prompt.

"Can I see my future?" she asked.

"_No_," he choked out. It had never occured to him when he made the crystal that she'd ever ask _that _question. "No. No No!" He watched helpless as the scene continued.

The ball lit up again, and flashed to a scene Sarah recognized; her bedroom at her house. It showed her lying in bed with her eyes closed, alone.

Jareth had tears rimming his eyes as he watched.

"_Can I see the girl's future?_"

The ball apparently didn't need to be told who "the girls" were. It flashed and showed Sarah a barn owl flying towards her neighbor's house. It landed in the backyard and changed into a dog.

The crystal flashed again and showed Dawn walking out of the neighbor's house and silently talking to the dog. She left, and the dog changed into a white-haired man, entered the house, then walked across the street to Sarah's house.

The crystal flashed again, and showed Dawn hugging the white-haired man on the front porch of her house.

Jareth dropped the ball.

He didn't think he could stand to see Sarah's face as she realized what was happening. She knew she was going to die, and that it was too late for Jareth to save her. She still chose to be with him to make him happy, to show him that she did love him. But she knew in the end that Jareth would go to her daughter and granddaughter.

She _knew_.

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Adair quickly walked down the hall. A handful of goblins had just come running into the dining room where he'd been having dinner, and told him Jareth had returned. And he didn't look happy. Adair guessed Jareth had gone to his room when he saw the direction the goblins said he went.

He was just reaching for the door handle to his brother's room when it burst open in front of him. Clutching something in his hand, Jareth shot past him without a word. Adair stood there for a moment, mouth open slightly, hands raised, palm up, in question. Finally he found his voice.

"Goblin got your tongue?"

Jareth kept his steps fast.

"Not now, Adair," he replied firmly. Undaunted, Adair quickly ran to catch up, jogging alongside to keep up with his older brother's longer stride and fast pace. He held out a hand and touched Jareth's sleeve.

"No, really. Three goblins just told me you've finally arrived back, you run to your room, and you're leaving again." He took on a tone of mock superiority. "As I'm currently King by your leave, I demand an explanation."

Jareth stopped abruptly and Adair almost shot past him. By the look on his brother's reddened face, Adair realized he may have pushed him too far.

"Not… now… Adair," he spat out between gritted teeth.

"Okay.." he replied, pulling back slightly.

Jareth kept walking.

"Hey, do you need anything?"

This time Jareth did stop.

"Yes," sarcasm colored his tone. "The ability to be in two places at once," he threw the crystal up in the air and caught it, "or a duplicate of myself." And with that, he kept walking towards the castle doors.

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The owl reappeared several miles from where he'd last been seen in this realm. Backwinging to slow down, the owl landed on a tall stone monolith, then glided down to land in front of a headstone a few yards away.

Some kids further up the cemetery pointed with their flashlights as an owl landed amongst the stones. There that night on a dare, they had to stay in the graveyard until midnight, and were feeling rather jumpy, but thus far had heroically remained brave in front of their friends.

However, when the owl suddenly changed into a ghostly figure standing in the moonlight, the entire group turned tail and ran back the way they had come like little girls. The figure never noticed them.

Jareth stood before the headstone, staring. Again, the engraved word "Sarah" stood out at him. He held the crystal ball out towards the stone, and his voice was raw.

"Why?" he choked out. "Why did you do it, Sarah?"

His question was answered only by a few frogs, croaking softly in the distance.

He tilted his hand and dropped the crystal next to the rosebush, where it landed with a dull thud on the soft earth.

"You said you loved me, Sarah. You knew I loved you. You've dreamt of being the princess, the queen, since you were a small child…Why would you give up all your dreams, your desires? You could have had them. You could have lived."

He paced back and forth.

"I could have saved you. Why wouldn't you let me? I've been _tortured_," his voice broke slightly, "with that guilt every day of my life since."

A small breeze blew his hair gently, consolingly, like the soft hands of a lover running through it.

"Was all that you said that night lies?" He closed his eyes in pain, but the words kept tumbling out. "Did you just want to punish me, for all eternity, so badly, that you'd give up everything you ever wanted to accomplish it?"

The wind blew suddenly, cold, and the ancient oak tree overhead groaned loudly in protest.

"Then why, damn it!"

The night went entirely silent at his sudden outburst.

Jareth kept pacing for a moment before he noticed that the crystal was softly glowing where it sat next to the rosebush. Hunching down in front of the stone, he picked it up.

The crystal showed him Dawn and Heather. Pictures of them, from the time they were infants up to the present, flashed before him. Occasionally Sarah was shown with them, her face so happy you could feel the love she felt towards her daughter and granddaughter.

"You didn't have to sacrifice yourself for anything, you could have talked with your girls."

The wind blew softly again, feathering his hair lightly over his face, and the crystal flashed softly and glowed a bright red. Red was the color of love, Jareth knew.

The red faded into obscurity and a shimmery blue color replaced it.

"What…" Jareth started asking, but was silenced as the crystal refined its image. The blue rippled, and he realized he was looking at the top of a body of water as rain fell on the surface. He looked up as real drops of water rained down on him from the tree above.

Not water. _Tears_.

"You could have saved me!" he roared angrily. "I spent a millennia, alone, in that damned castle, watching you live your life. I watched every sunrise and sunset for seventy years, imagining and hoping that someday I'd be standing there watching it with you. And look where it's gotten me!" He gestured, taking in the aged, crumbling stones that dotted the cemetery. "_You could have saved me_!"

The crystal flashed and Jareth watched as it showed Dawn and Heather both asleep on the couch, himself in the middle. It showed him carrying Heather upstairs as he and Dawn tucked her into bed. It showed Dawn hugging him that first night out on the front porch. It showed the red rose on the bush at her house, then faded to the solid color red again.

The color of love.

Jareth hung his head.

"You _did_ save me..." he said quietly, as a tear rolled off his cheek.

Sarah did love him, she always had. But she'd done what she felt she had to, knowing things would turn out all right in the end. Just like Dawn said. Dawn.. and Heather…

"But I can't stay here with them. I have to return. It was all for nothing…"

The crystal flashed brightly, and a white cloud slowly solidified into a pure white rose.

"But I don't understand!" He held the crystal up and peered into it, anxious for more answers. The surface of the crystal cracked audibly, sending spider web patterns all across the white rose. The crystal shattered, and Jareth was left holding a delicate white rose in his hand. He brought his hand down and stared at the flower connected to the little rosebush on Sarah's grave.

White. The color of surrender. Of peace. Of happiness.

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Please read and review (really- these few chapters I really would love feedback on. Everything confusing? Clear? Did you see stuff coming, did you even pick up on it?) More exciting stuff to come.


	12. Recognition, lost portraits, and clues

Good lord, I hadn't realized it's been so long since I've last updated! Yikes! I've been really busy with the summer renn faires, getting some things up for sale on ebay (eye lichen clusters and feather pens, oh my!), and generally trying to get "Going Underground" into a little better shape overall. Websites are a constant struggle, but oh well.

Well, here's chapter 12, _I_ think it's pretty good (the next few will be better), but leave me a little review and let me know what you think. (After all, _you_ are reading it!)

Enjoy!

Andrea

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Chapter 12: Recognition, lost portraits, and clues

A fully open rose. It was red.

Dawn reached out to touch it but it vanished before her fingers could caress the petals. She knew they would have been velvety soft, like that little spot on a man's chest between his pectorals…

Blue. Water.

A dark haired woman sat on the edge of a beautiful pond under a huge oak tree shrouded in fog and wept, her tears playing circles on the water's surface. Looking around, Dawn realized that this area reminded her very much of the park near her home, but ignored that and strode forward to the woman.

"Why are you crying?" she asked her.

The woman glanced up at Dawn and her dark brown hair parted to reveal a face that was younger than Dawn's own. She recognized Dawn and her face lit up with joy. Dawn did not know the woman, though she did look somewhat familiar.

"Why are you crying?" Dawn repeated.

The woman hung her head slightly. Turning to a stone obelisk shape nearby, she picked a red rose from the bush growing up the side and held it out to Dawn. Dawn lightly traced the curled-back petals with a finger. She was right- just like a man's chest. The woman nodded her head sadly, and clutched the flower to her chest as another tear ran down her cheek.

With one last sad look, she resolutely held out the rose and clasped Dawn's hands firmly around the stem. Dawn shook her head and tried to hand the rose back.

"No, it's yours. You keep it." The woman shook her head sadly and gently clasped Dawn's hands back around the stem. Dawn looked down at the rose and her own voice seemed to echo back to her. _She loved flowers…_

Dawn quickly looked back up at the woman, who was smiling slightly.

"Mom?"

The young Sarah nodded and gently kissed her daughter's cheek. She squeezed Dawn's hands over the rose, then turned and started walking towards the great oak tree.

"Oh, wait!" Dawn held out a hand towards her mother. She had so many questions she wanted to ask her.

Sarah stopped and turned just for a moment. Gesturing as if she were hugging something to her chest, she smiled, and disappeared into the fog by the ancient tree…

White. A Fragile blossom that shone in the darkness like a beacon.

Dawn was left standing in the thick fog, alone. She looked down at the red rose she'd been given, and found it was white- pure, perfect, simple…

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"_Mom!_"

Dawn awoke with a start, and looked about her room in the semi-darkness that suggested dawn was nearing. Everything was just how it'd been a few short hours before when she had said goodnight to Rob and gone to bed. The clock on the nightstand right next to her pillow read 4:37 AM.

Realizing she must have called out in her sleep, she groggily rolled back over, ready to get a few more hours of sleep.

She pulled the covers back up to her shoulder and looking at the matching nightstand on the other side of the bed, froze midway.

There was a perfect white rose laying on top of her two books, and beyond that, the large window on the far wall was open, curtains rustling softly in the slight breeze…

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Heather woke up a few hours later and quickly got dressed for school. If she noticed that her mother was quiet while they ate breakfast, she didn't say anything.

"Mom," she bounced in her seat while she ate her cereal. "Guess what? Today at school we get to go outside and study the bugs in the grass.."

Dawn nodded while Heather chattered away excitedly. She felt bad for not paying attention, something she rarely did, but her mind was just so… distracted.

She knew this morning when she'd found her window open and a rose on her nightstand that she should have called the police. Someone had been in her house, and since Rob came over whenever he choose through the backdoor, she doubted it was him.

Who?

Her mind roamed back to the dream she'd had. Her mom had given her a red rose, which had then turned white..

But no. Things like that just didn't happen.

"Mom, we gotta go wait for the bus!" Heather's tugging on her shirtsleeve distracted her.

They walked outside and sat on the porch, and while they were waiting, Dawn kept an eye on the house across the road, but she didn't see Rob leave for work. Maybe he'd left early that morning, she thought, shaking her head.

The bus came a few minutes later, and once Heather was on the bus and on the way to school, Dawn went back upstairs and walked to her small studio. Opening what would have been the closet if the room had remained a bedroom, she gingerly pulled out the unfinished portrait she'd been working on.

As she prepared a few more colors of paints, she could smell the faint perfume of the rose coming from all the way down the hallway, and couldn't stop her mind from wandering again.

Where had it come from? It definitely was not a farm-grade rose sold in floral stores; except for the one peachy-pink type, they generally didn't have much smell to them. And this one smelled _gorgeous_. Not identical to the red blossom on her spindly rosebush, which smelled great too, but _different_.. somehow.

She brought up a thin paintbrush and gently touched up a few details on the canvas.

And the window. She was sure she'd locked it last time she had had it open. Granted, that had been a few days ago so she really wasn't sure, but she _always_ locked it..

Dawn painted a few hours away, until she finally stretched, cracking her back, and leaned back from her painting to inspect it. Yes, it was finished. Not _just done_, but _finished_. She couldn't add or take away any brush strokes without unbalancing the picture. It was perfect. She tilted her head and appraised her work with a critical eye. She thought it was also her best portrait she'd done yet.

Standing up, and stretching one more time, Dawn quickly cleaned her brushes and lay those on the table next to the canvas. She looked at the one small window in the room and wrinkled her nose. Deciding, she opened it fully. It would allow the painting to dry faster, and air out the turpentine and other chemical smells.

Shutting the door behind her (this would keep the chemical smells from permeating to the rest of the house), she walked to her bedroom. Opening the door, she walked in, picked up her two books from under the white rose, set it carefully back down on the bare wood, and left the room.

Walking downstairs, she stopped in the kitchen long enough to grab a bottle of water, then padded to the living room, flopped down on the couch, and started reading.

The girl had finally reached the castle, but she only had a few minutes left. She had run up the stairs to the Goblin King's- Jareth, she now knew his name was- throne room, and found it was gone. A gravity and reality-bending room of stairs had replaced it.

The girl tried valiantly to get to her brother, but could not reach him. Eventually, her and the king faced off; a battle of words and emotions, her demands parried by his offers.

And she won.

Or rather, the Goblin King had been offering her her dreams- everything she'd ever wanted in life, if she'd forget the baby- and she'd thrown it in his face. He had offered her himself- fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave- but the girl was too young to see it, to realize what he was offering. Winning was what she was after. Her brother.

But Dawn was not too young to see it. She could sympathize with the girl, being pushed into the responsibility of caring for a child that wasn't hers, but for the most part she felt inexorably drawn toward the Goblin King's side of things. He loved this stubborn girl, and was doing everything he could to please her- granting her wishes, offering her her dreams- but nothing was good enough for her. She'd change her mind, or sulk, or cry out that it wasn't fair.

Dawn turned the page and kept reading. She almost felt tears brimming her eyes when the king had resolutely forfeited his claim to the child, leaving the girl to her victory, knowing that she would not be his.

She finished reading the book and closed it. The ending didn't seem right. The girl had won, and gone back to her room to celebrate with all her friends she'd met during her journey, but she said she needed _all of them_. And all of them, excluding one, had shown.

Dawn wondered if the girl needed this excluded one, the Goblin King she'd warred against the entire time? Had she been so stubborn that she would ignore the fact that she did, and leave him to his misery while she wallowed in undue victory?

Dawn closed the book and looked at the cover. Worn red leather, slightly dirty from years of use, with very faded gold-leaf lettering. Nothing more. So why was it that she felt like she was missing some very important clue inside? Or from her mother's diary?

Sighing, she placed both books on the coffee table and stood up. Walking into the kitchen, she picked up her keys off the table, and went out the front door.

---------------------------------

Dawn unlocked Rob's front door and walked inside.

"Sam," she called for the dog, who was not decorating the couch as he usually did, and was nowhere to be seen.

"Saaamm…" She walked to the kitchen window and looked outside- he wasn't in the backyard.

"Houdini.." she huffed. Where was he? She walked back towards the main part of the house and turned down the hallway. Pushing a door open, she looked in the bathroom. Nope. She walked further down the hall and pushed the bedroom door open.

"Ah hah," she said quietly. Sam was sprawled out over the bed, asleep.

"Sam," Dawn called out. The dog didn't move. She repeated herself, louder, and Sam jumped, awake. He looked at her then blearily lay his head back down on the bed.

"Oh, no, lazybones. Come on, it's been a few hours since you've been outside and it'll be a long time before Rob gets home to let you out again. Let's go." She gently pushed at him until he got up and walked slowly to the back door with her.

"You know, it isn't like you lead a very hard life, pup. You get to stay home and eat and sleep and play ball." Sam looked up at her with the somewhat dazed expression of one who's just been woken several hours prematurely, and is still too tired to respond to any stimuli. Dawn opened up the back door and let him out to do his business.

After checking his food and water (which were both full), she walked back to the living room and sat on the couch to wait a few minutes on Sam. Bored, she tapped her fingers on her leg and looked about the room. Once again, the pictures on the fireplace mantle caught her attention. Standing, she walked over to them.

Funny, Rob himself wasn't in any of them- he must not like to have photos taken, Dawn thought- they were all of Rob's wife. Her wrinkled face stared back up at Dawn as she wondered what she had been like. She picked up the one frame and peered at the face inside. To all appearances, she was an ordinary old woman. You could pass her on the street and never take a second glance at her.

Dawn moved to put the frame back on the mantle but noticed an uneven line of white showing in one of the corners. The picture must be sitting crooked under the glass. Taking it with her back to the couch, Dawn sat down and flipping the frame over, started prizing it open.

"Success," she murmured when she finally was able to lift all the tabs holding the cardboard backing on. Carefully using a fingernail, she caught the corner of the photo and picked it up. Another sheet of white paper was underneath- that must have been what she'd seen in the corner. She lay the picture down on the couch next to her and carefully peeled the second paper up. Why would that be in there?

Looking at it, she noticed it had very fine printed lines of text running at an angle across the back. Bringing it closer to her face, she realized it was a company name, and a date. It was another photo. She flipped it over, expecting to see another picture of Rob's wife.

Her breath caught in her throat. It was a picture of her mother.

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After stowing the picture frame in her purse, Dawn had quickly let the dog back inside, then locked the house and ran back across the street. She erupted back into her own house, grabbed her books off the coffee table and ran upstairs. She opened the door to her small studio and went inside, closing the door behind her. Tossing the books on the chair, she walked to her easel table and stared at the painting she'd just finished.

She stared. And squinted, then stared harder.

She was missing something. Something important. But what?

The portrait offered her no clues, so she picked up the two books and sat down in the chair again. She randomly flipped through the pages of the children's book, her eyes picking up phrases as she turned pages.

But what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl…

You're… him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King…

Go back to your room. Read your books. Put on your costumes. That is your real life. Forget about the baby…

Dawn knew her mother's life as a child _was_ her books and her costumes and things.

Turn back before it is too late…

Oh, I can't. Don't you understand that? I can't.

Dawn certainly couldn't turn back. The rational half of her mind was telling her, _insisting_, that these were _just books_. _Things like this don't happen_. Unfortunately, she'd seen too much, read too much, and could not dismiss that feeling of having missed _something_ buried in the writing. There were too many coincidences underfoot to simply be coincidences.

He needed something to keep him amused here… In the old days, when many babies had been offered to him, Jareth had been more tolerant, reckoning that soon he would certainly find one who could be trained as a worthy companion to the throne, one whose young blood would serve to refresh Jareth's, whose high spirits would dispel the thoughts of aging that oppressed the King of the Goblins… The goblins howled with merriment. Jareth had been their King for as long as they could remember, which was about four seconds at best, and they hoped he would be King forevermore. Jareth winced with the pain of it all.

He was lonely, Dawn thought. She and Heather knew that feeling all too well, and she was sure Rob did also. All of them had been alone for a while now.

Jareth examined her face in the crystal. Too old to be a goblin, too young to be kept by him, damn her innocent eyes…

He'd fallen for this girl, and couldn't undo what his heart felt. He was stuck in a bit of a predicament, then; wanting the girl to fail so he could keep her brother, but knowing if she did, that she was too young to reciprocate anything towards him. It was obviously not a position he'd found himself in before.

She was inside a bubble, dancing, dressed in a ball gown… A congregation of many bubbles crossed the night sky, each with a dancer within it. They were approaching one great bubble, inside, there was a magnificent ballroom. Jareth was already dancing there…

Dawn remembered how Rob had stumbled when she had mentioned that part of the story when they were dancing.

Your Highness. The girl! Yes, yes, what of her? She's here_, your Highness!_

The sudden arrival of someone unexpected.

Jareth stepped out from a shadowy archway, wearing a faded, threadbare cloak. His face looked older, drawn. In his blonde mane was a trace of gray.

Dawn was reminded of Rob for a moment, wearing his old, outdated suit; his white-gray hair so similar to the blonde-gray hair of the Goblin King.

With a last, slow flutter, the cloak lay still. From beneath it, as the clock struck for the twelfth time, a white owl flew out and circled over her. Tears were running down her cheeks.

So the girl did finally understand, then, at the end. Deep down she did need him, but had lost her chance.

Just fear me, love me…

Dawn thought back to the little red rose that had suddenly appeared on her rosebush outside. She shook her head, it shouldn't have had any blooms until at least the next year. But it _had_ blossomed this year- granted, only one flower- but it _had_. She'd first spotted it.. Her mind searched back..

She'd first spotted it after she'd given Rob a hug for the first time on the front porch. One short day after they'd planted it. Just a few moments after she had hugged him.

The rose in her dream her mother had given her was red. Then it had turned white. She woke up and a white rose was on her nightstand.

Things like this just were _not_ possible. They weren't.

But 'things like this' _were _happening..

She picked up her mother's diary and flipped through that.

Jareth is cunning. I know he can change shape into an owl, and has even altered his form in other ways so I couldn't recognize him… I do not doubt that he can change his entire appearance to suit his needs… I probably wouldn't even recognize him until it was too late…

She looked up at the portrait she'd finished.

"It was you all along, wasn't it."

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mwahaha.. please review.


	13. Grape juice and wine, and guilty conscie...

Firstly, thanks to everyone who's been leaving me reviews. It makes my day just a little better when I find I've got a few waiting for me.

dreamlabyrinth; great, I'm glad to see you can spot a few surprises coming, but others are still unexpected! And I like that "I need you, all of you" line too, though I was disappointed that Jareth didn't show too. I wondered about that as I got older.

Etre-loup de Madame: Wow, that's a tough name to spell. Curious as to what it means. Anyways, yes, more is on the way!

Liz20: yes, again, there is more coming. I'm trying not to speed through the ending. I don't want it all cheesy like some stories I've seen, but I _am_ updating when I can.

SilverWing02: Ah, I still love your name (being a dragon fan who considers herself a silver one anyways)! Hope you're enjoying the story.

Thanks to anyone else who's reviewed that I missed. I only went back a few chapters' worth of reviews, so that's why I may have missed some.

And lastly, one of my good friends and the closest thing I have to a beta; Alexia/EvilD: Arg, girl, you have to start coming around to IM again! I _neeed _the feedback. Besides, you get updates before I post. ;-)

Secondly I just want to let everyone know I am working on the story still, even though updates are a bit random. If you've been following this story closely, put me on your author alert if you haven't already- fan fiction will email you when I've updated a new chapter. I use it, and it's great.

Alright. Here's the next chapter. You know what to do. J

Andrea

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Chapter 13: Grape juice and wine, and guilty consciences

Dawn heard the front door shut as Heather got home.

"Hi sweetie, how was school?"

"It was great. I saw lots of bugs an' I brought this one home." Heather dropped her backpack on the couch and proudly showed her mom a mason jar full of grass and twigs, and one very large green insect.  
"It's a praying mantis, an' my teacher said it's a girl. She's gonna have babies."

"That's great!" She watched as Heather set the jar down on the table. "Can you take your book bag upstairs to your room?" Heather nodded.

"Rob's coming over later for dinner- I left him a note on the door- and I want you on your best behavior tonight, okay?" Heather nodded again. "If I ask you to do something, just do it, and don't ask why, okay?"

"Sure, Mom," Heather called out from the stairs.

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Heather opened the door later that night for Rob.

"Rob!" she yelled, and jumped up for him to catch her.  
"Hi, love." He kissed her on the forehead then carried her inside and shut the door behind them. He set her back down as they walked into the kitchen.

"Hi Dawn. Did you want help with anything?" He gestured to the various pots cooking on the stove. She shook her head.

"No, that's okay, dinner's almost done. You and Heather can go sit in the living room and watch cartoons if you like." He nodded, and Heather grabbed his hand and drug him to the other room. Dawn watched them go.

She still wasn't sure about what she was going to be doing. She knew what she was going to _have_ to do, but some little corner of the back of her mind still suggested that this was insane. The whole thing was a big coincidence.

She hoped she was wrong, and at the end of the night they'd all be laughing about the whole situation. On the other hand.. If she wasn't wrong..

She opened the refrigerator door and put two dark plum bottles inside to chill- a bottle of wine and another of grape juice.

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Rob allowed himself to be dragged out to the living room. Heather plopped herself down on the carpet, so Rob sat by himself on the couch. Since cartoons were not his ideal form of entertainment, unless he had a beautiful lady sitting on either side of him and had been drinking a rather lot of wine, he soon found his mind wandering.

He had to return. There was simply no way around the fact. He'd gotten too far involved with these two girls. He had meant to leave the night before, but he'd been too drained, physically and emotionally, after his excursions to do it. He had to leave now. Tonight.

He remembered the night before, when he'd left the rose for Dawn…

He left the graveyard in owl form, clutching the rose in his claws. Silent wings carried him to the same window he'd flown to years earlier, though this time he was not here to take anything, he was here to leave something.

He landed on the floor in front of the window and changed into his true Fae form. He picked the rose up off the floor with a silk-gloved hand and walked over to Dawn's sleeping form. Sitting on his haunches, he studied her face. So much like her mother's, yet at the same time so different. He gently brushed a few strands of hair out of her face, then his rich, cultured voice cut the night.

"I had to come say goodbye before I left," he whispered. "I know you are sleeping, but I hope that somehow you're hearing what I have to say, and that you remember it." Dawn's chest continued to slowly rise and fall as she slept on.

"You may feel that you are alone in life, but I want you to know that you are very loved. Your mother.." he stopped for a moment and regained his composure. "Your mother saved me by giving up her life, knowing I would find my way to you and your daughter.

"Though I do not wish it, I must return to my kingdom. I've been gone far too long, I only meant to stay long enough to make sure you and Heather were taken care of.

"Your mother gave this to me," he looked at the white rose he held in his hand. "I believe it would make things harder if I took it with me, and knowing how she loved you, I want you to have it. It's from both of us.."

He gently lay the rose on her books, where she'd see it first thing in the morning. Bending over, he brushed a soft kiss against her forehead.

"I hope you find that special man to share your life." He turned to leave and the books again caught his eye. He considered taking them with him, but decided against it. Dawn didn't believe in the truth of the first book, and thought her mother was simply wrapped up with her plays in her diary, so they really were no harm. Besides, perhaps they'd read it later on, and even if they thought it was all a story, they'd remember him. He turned and jumped out the window, transforming in the air and flying off into the night as an owl.

Rob sighed from his spot on the couch. He hadn't expected being too tired to return home that night. He had gone home and slept. He vaguely remembered Dawn coming over at some point- it was a good thing he'd gone to sleep in the form of the dog, or all hell would have broken loose when she found him. Today though, he was rested; there were no more excuses to keep him here. He would return as soon as Dawn said goodnight to him and he could leave the house.

"Rob?" Dawn repeated. He jumped.

"Oh! Sorry."

"Dinner's ready," she repeated. He nodded she handed him a plate, and set a glass of dark burgundy-colored wine down on the end table for him, then walked back to the kitchen. Heather was already eating, sitting Indian-style on the carpet, watching her cartoons. Dawn came back a few minutes later with her own plate and another glass, which upon closer inspection would have looked more purple than burgundy, and would have smelled suspiciously of grape juice. Had someone else in the room inspected it.

They ate, and watched cartoons, while Dawn made several trips to the kitchen to refill glasses as they were emptied. When everyone was finished, she carried their plates into the kitchen.

"Would you like any help with that?" Rob asked Dawn on several occasions. She'd always shrug as she walked away.

"No, thanks, I'm okay."

Dawn carried their glasses into the kitchen for what she hoped would be the last time that night- she could tell the wine was really affecting Rob, he had to strain to look at her straight a few times already. Opening the fridge, and quickly looking towards the living room to make sure the coast was clear, she poured Rob's glass full of wine, and her own again with grape juice. She really was an honest person by nature, and hated being sneaky like this, but if something was going on, she didn't want to have her mind clouded by alcohol. She guessed the reason she felt bad was the fact that Rob didn't know that hers was only grape juice. He thought she was going toe-to-toe with him drinking. And it wasn't like she was poisoning him or anything.. just giving him _lots_ of wine.

She'd made a somewhat big dinner- a small turkey, and mashed potatoes, and green bean casserole.. She'd rather have Rob a little sleepy, than fully awake, if she was going to catch him slipping up on anything.

If she was wrong, well.. he'd hate her in the morning for the headache he'd have, and hopefully he wouldn't remember any of her accusations. She picked up the two full glasses, and returned to the couch.

----------------------------

A few hours later Dawn finally sent Heather up to bed.

"Oh," the girl groaned, "but it's only ten!" Dawn gave her a look that quickly reminded Heather that she was expected to listen tonight. "Okay.." She gave her mom then Rob a quick hug. "'Night."

"Goodnight Heather." He gave her a big hug, and a small peck on the cheek, then watched her climb upstairs. Dawn waited until she heard Heather's door shut, then turned to Rob.

"I've got a small surprise for you, Rob." she smiled.

"Oh?" he blinked and focused on her face. He was getting rather sleepy. She nodded.

"Would you like to see my newest painting? I finished it finally. I painted _you_." Rob seemed surprised.

"Yes, I'd love to," he answered.

"Ok. Wait here a minute." He watched as Dawn disappeared upstairs. She'd painted _him_? He shook his head. He hadn't thought he'd made that big an impact on the girls, and this certainly was not going to make his leaving any easier on the two. Before long he heard Dawn padding back downstairs, a large canvas held behind her back.

"Ready?"

Rob nodded, and she pulled the canvas out in one hand with a flourish. Mismatched blue eyes met his from a pale visage on the canvas, and white-blonde hair spilled down around the face.

"So what do you think?" She propped it against a lamp in front of the phone and held her other hand behind her back.

"It's great," he told her as he stared at it, "but where's my painting?" Dawn ignored his question and kept talking.

"I think it's my best portrait yet, but since all I had to go on was a child's book, I'm not sure how accurate it is.." Rob kept staring.

"I don't understand.."

Dawn brought her other hand from behind her back and held up the picture frame from Rob's house.

"How about this; does it job your memory any?" He nodded.

"Yes, I've seen that picture with the others in your bedroom." Dawn shook her head.

"No. You didn't." Dawn shook her head, and a strange, slightly triumphant yet sick look crossed her face. "We only ever had one copy of this picture, and it was kept on the wall of my mother's room when she still lived here. It disappeared sometime around her death- we weren't sure exactly when."

Rob sat on the couch and stared at her, silent.

"I want to know how you got it, and why you had it to begin with." She brought up her first hand from behind the painting and showed him the cell phone. She dialed "9" then "1", and held her finger over the "1" button again.

"No games," she told him.

------------------------------


	14. An explanation is due

EEEE! A new chappy! This story _will_ end eventually!

Thanks go out again to Lex who's about the only thing I have next to a beta, and who always offers her moral support and kicks me in the ass when I fall behind. Also thanks to everyone who's left me reviews, I love reading them!

Andrea

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Chapter 14: An explanation is due

Dawn held her finger over the "1" button on the cell phone and waited for Rob to start speaking.

"Okay.." he said slowly, and held up a hand towards her. "It's not what you think. Just hang up the phone- the police wouldn't believe you anyways- and let me explain." Dawn wrinkled her eyebrows.

"I'm not going to harm you or your daughter. You ought to know by now that that isn't my intention." Dawn realized he was right, so she turned the phone off, though she still held it in her hand. They were both silent for a moment as they tried to figure out the best way to start. Dawn found her voice first.

"Why do you have a picture of my mother?" she asked quietly. "Were you involved in her death in any way? And what do you really look like?"

Rob held a hand out cautiously, and stood up from the couch. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he let his body morph into his Fae form; his hair lengthened and changed to a blonde color, his face elongated slightly and became more defined, and the rest of his body took on a leaner, more muscular shape. As he opened his eyes to look at Dawn his clothes finished changing also. Instead of the faded, worn out clothes that were given to him, he was wearing dappled tan pants, a long sleeved white shirt, and a simple leather vest; not exactly clothes fit for a King, but he didn't wish to overdo it.

Dawn's mouth hung open slightly as she witnessed his transformation. If she had been anyone else she probably would have screamed. "You really _are _him, aren't you? My mother wasn't crazy, or wrapped up in her play.."

"Jareth, at your service," he said seriously, and bowed low. "And the portrait was amazing, I may have to hang it on my bedchamber wall, but you missed one detail.." When the gold and silver pendant appeared around his neck, she stood up quickly and pointed at it.

"_That! _I found that shape on my mothers body! What did you _do_ to her?!"

"I never hurt your mother. Those shapes appeared when I healed her at the castle. They always do."

"At the.. castle?"

Jareth sighed as he nodded. "Perhaps it would be easiest if I started at the beginning.."

-------------------------

During the course of his narrative, Dawn had calmed down and come to sit on the couch with him. Jareth was generally managing to keep an amazing control over his voice as he told his story, but Dawn had tears streaming down her face as he spoke.

"She died in my arms…I carried her here," his voice broke slightly, "and lay her in bed as if she'd died in her sleep. I didn't wish to alarm you or Heather." Dawn nodded. He'd been through so much over the years; he really did love her mother.

"But I just had to have something to remember her by, so I took the picture frame off the wall. She had dozens of pictures, I didn't think one would be missed. I kept it on the small table by my bed.. I saw her face every day when I woke up, and every night as I went to sleep." Dawn nodded.

"I.. I ended up staying too long here. I came last night with the rose from your mother's headstone to say goodbye, but I was too exhausted to make the return trip." He looked up at her. "I'm leaving tonight."

Dawn was surprised when she heard herself gasp.

"But you can't." Jareth avoided her eyes.

"I have no choice. I am King; my brother cannot rule for me forever."

She shook her head.

"Give it to him, let him have it." Her mouth seemed to be running on autopilot, though she meant what she said. "You have a life here with _us_." Jareth shook his head. "That book told me everything I need to know. You hate it there; you're stuck ruling these disgusting creatures, and you're lonely." In the first move of genuine trust she'd shown since she found out who he was, she placed a hand on Jareth's knee. "Stay with us. Please." Jareth kept shaking his head as he looked at the floor.

"How.." Dawn said with the calm one finds before the thunderstorm, "am I going to explain this to Heather? How am I supposed to tell that little girl upstairs that not only did her father leave us, but you did too? How can I tell her that her 'honorary grandpa' walked out on her? That he'd rather return to a job he hates, than stay here?" Jareth did not look up, though a tear ran down his cheek and fell to the floor, quickly absorbed by the carpeting.

A voice interrupted them.

"Mommy?"

Both adults quickly looked up to find a pajama-clad Heather at the top of the stairs, clutching her stuffed Didymus, watching them. Dawn and Jareth quickly looked at each other.

"Come here, please, Heather," he asked. To Dawn's amazement, her daughter walked downstairs, sat between them on the couch, and gave Jareth a hug.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" she whispered, slightly scared. "Is Rob leaving?"

Dawn looked quickly at Jareth, then down at her daughter. "Honey, I have to tell you something." Heather nodded. "Rob's real name is Jareth, okay?" Heather's eyes grew wide and turned to look at Jareth.

"She knows?" she whispered. Jareth nodded and looked at Dawn's stunned face over the girl's head.

"Yes. It's okay," he told her.

"How did you know who he was, Heather?" Dawn asked.

"I dunno, I guess Gramma's book. I just knew when we met," she answered simply.

"I think since she is still a child and believes in her stories and the magic of things, she was able to see me as I really was. We sort of came to a silent agreement over Didymus when we met."

Dawn just nodded, still slightly flabbergasted. Jareth turned back to Heather.

"Love, your mother and I were talking because I have to go home." Heather nodded.

"Can we come see you tomorrow after school?" she asked.

"No. I have to go to _my _home. Where I lived before I moved next door. Do you understand?" He could see she did by the way tears started to form at the corners of her eyes.

"To your castle?"

"Yes."

"You don't want to stay here with us anymore?" Heather buried her face in his shirt and clung to him.

"I do, but I have to go home and take care of everything. I need to make sure that my brother is okay, and my house, and my land." He pulled her away from his shirt and wiped her eyes with his thumbs. "I would stay if I could, but I can't." She nodded, and he kissed her on the forehead and stood up.

"Dawn," he picked up her hands and held them for a moment, "keep your portrait, and hang it somewhere you both will see it and think of me." She nodded, then dropped his hands and gave him a big hug, the way she had before out on the front porch. When she finally let go of him, he picked up the picture frame from where it sat on the table.

"May I take this with me?" he asked. Dawn nodded.

"Of course you can," she told him with a minute smile. He tucked it into his vest, and started walking towards the door, then stopped. Reaching up, he pulled another picture frame off the wall.

"May I take this one as well?" He held it up and showed her the picture. It was a more recent one of herself and Heather. Dawn nodded, tears at the corner of her eyes.

"Thank you," he said, and made sure that one was also secured in his vest.

He opened the window, and after taking one last look at them both, he closed his eyes and concentrated as he turned into a barn owl. With a flick of his wings, he readied himself to launch into the air.

"_Wait_!"

He stopped mid-hop and looked back at Dawn.

-----------------------------

A loud noise somewhere downstairs woke Adair from a deep sleep, and a good dream. Irritated, he rolled over and tried to get comfortable again. Closing his eyes, he tried to relax.

A nearly impossible thing to do when there's several voices and a multitude of feet running around downstairs.

Blast the wretched creatures. They all knew better than to be up, at least up and making noise, this late at night. While his brother would stay up at all hours of the night, Adair didn't. He required sleep. And on a fairly normal schedule. And he thought he'd made that very clear to them. Several times.

He flipped the covers off of himself and stood up. Wrenching his bedchamber door open, and not caring that he was only clad in his silk sleeping pants, he angrily charged downstairs, ready to toss the noisemakers straight into the Bog.

He turned around the last corner that lead to the great staircase that lead down into the Great Hall, and raised his voice.

"And just _what _do you think you rotten little buggers are doing awake at this-" He stopped dead in his tracks at the foot of the stairs.

"_Dawn?_"

Surrounded by a pool of goblins carrying off several suitcases and small packages to rooms, Dawn turned to face the half naked, black-haired man.

"Adair?"

Heather clung to Jareth's knee, confused from all the noise and creatures.

Jareth turned around from giving orders to a few goblins and stared at them both.

"Would anyone care to explain?" he asked.

-----------------------------

…

……

Wanna see a sneak preview from the next chapter?

……

…

Adair reached his bedchamber's heavy wooden doors and yanked them open, strode inside then slammed them shut behind him. He was certainly not a quick-tempered person, but this went far beyond any wrong that had ever been done to him…

…Still, such things are not thought of when you feel as wronged he did.

Adair stopped pacing, and walked to the large bedroom window overlooking the Labyrinth. Pulling it open, he stood on the edge of the stone balcony and overlooked the land spread beneath him. The night wind rustled tree leaves and whistled through hedges far below.

"Well, Jareth, I hope you're happy.." he whispered, and jumped…

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evil laugh


	15. Wronged

A short chapter, but a new one nonetheless. Enjoy!

Andrea

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Chapter 15: Wronged

Adair's face grew harsh in the dim light that illuminated the castle at this odd hour of night. He quickly took in the scene before him and glared at Jareth.

"I've been trying to get back Aboveworld to Dawn for years," he ground out, "and _you knew that_. King or not, you had no right to take the only woman I've ever loved." He glanced quickly at Heather's vivid blonde hair, then back at his brother. "And _that's_ even worse." He quickly turned and started charging up the stairs towards his bedchamber.

Dawn turned to look at Jareth, who was still trying to catch up with things. He quickly recovered and ushered them upstairs.

"Come, come. We'll get you situated for the night." He held Heather's hand as she clutched Didymus, and looked up at her mother. "We will get this all sorted out in the morning."

Dawn looked back up the stairs where Adair had disappeared, then slowly nodded.

Jareth saw them to their room and pushed the door open.

"It's not one of the best rooms," he said by way of apology, "but I assumed you two would rather be together."

Both girl's mouths dropped open slightly as they took in their surroundings. A large, cathedral-ceilinged room waited for them. Against one wall there were two large four-poster beds with a nightstand of sorts between them, and against the other wall there were a pair of bureaus and a vanity mirror covered with perfume bottles. A large, open window with billowing drapes led out onto a small balcony beyond that, and a sea of plush fur rugs blanketed the floor. Here and there a few square feet of worn, ivory-colored stone could be seen beneath the rugs. Their suitcases dotted the floor by one bed.

"A fire, too?" Dawn asked. A rocking chair was situated in the far corner of the room in front of a small fireplace. Jareth nodded.

"Yes, and through that door is your bathroom."

"Wow.." was all Heather managed to get out.

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Adair reached his bedchamber's heavy wooden doors and yanked them open, strode inside then slammed them shut behind him. He was certainly not a quick-tempered person, but this went far beyond any wrong that had ever been done to him.

How _dare_ he. Jareth _knew_ that he was trying to get back Aboveworld, but purposely kept him stuck here anyways. He angrily paced back and forth on the dark fur rug, the soft hairs tickling his feet slightly. And just how long had their little liaison been going on? Adair wondered how long Jareth had waited before he was out of Dawn's life to try and seduce her. Apparently not long, he thought, remembering her child's bright blonde hair.

" 'The heir of every royal family is always born with blonde hair,'" Adair quietly said aloud, remembering a comment a female escort at some ball or another in the past had idly said to her friend. " 'Just look at Jareth. His father and grandfather had the same blonde hair.' " He felt his temper rising even more. Not only had Jareth stolen Dawn from him, he had fathered her child as well! She was definitely his child- the bright blonde hair proved it!

So clouded were his thoughts that his mind still refused to register the fact that while Jareth may have been Aboveworld, what were the chances of him meeting the very girl Adair had loved? That he couldn't have known they were the same person? That Adair had never really talked of her much, and had certainly never told Jareth her name?

Still, such things are not thought of when you feel as wronged he did.

Adair stopped pacing, and walked to the large bedroom window overlooking the Labyrinth. Pulling it open, he stood on the edge of the stone balcony and overlooked the land spread beneath him. The night wind rustled tree leaves and whistled through hedges far below.

"Well, Jareth, I hope you're happy.." he whispered, and jumped.

----------------------------------------

After seeing that the girls were comfortably settled, Jareth asked to speak with Dawn privately.

"Is it okay to leave Heather alone?" she asked him.

He nodded. "The castle's the safest place she can be, and the goblins are not allowed in this section unless under direct orders. They wouldn't hurt her anyways."

Dawn nodded and followed him through the maze-like corridors of the castle to a small room. This room must be the study, she thought. The walls were hidden beneath a solid stack of shelves, and each was lined with books, small and large, bound in all colors of leather, others.. Well, she wasn't sure she wanted to know what they were bound in. Dust had settled over a few surfaces, but she could tell which areas of the library were used most. Fingerprints, or entire areas that were clean, told of their importance. Interestingly enough, Dawn noted, most of these dust-free books looked either very old, or very new.

Jareth walked to a large brown leather couch and sat down. Dawn followed and sat next to him.

"First off I'd like to apologize for my brother." Dawn nodded. It was now obvious that Dawn and Adair knew each other, so he wasn't going to waste time asking questions. He already knew what happened on her side of things, and unfortunately, he was partly to blame for Adair not going back. _Though, granted, he shouldn't have ever been there in the first place._

"Secondly, I'd like to see if I can get him calmed down enough to talk to me. He... he apparently thinks that I am Heather's father, so it may take a few days for him to cool down enough to be reasonable." Dawn blushed, but nodded.

"Should I try speaking to him?"

Jareth shook his head. "No, I don't believe that would be a wise idea at the moment. I think it's best we get a good sleep tonight, and I'll show the two of you around tomorrow. We should probably wait to talk to Heather about this until Adair's calmed down and she's gotten to know him a little more." Dawn nodded.

"I will come wake you in the morning for breakfast, since you may get disoriented finding the dining area." She nodded again. "Would you like anything sent up tonight to your rooms? Hot chocolate, perhaps?"

"That would be great," Dawn replied, knowing Heather would appreciate it too. "Only.." Jareth looked at her, "_you're_ not making it, are you?" she asked sheepishly.

----------------------------------------------------

Jareth walked Dawn back to her room, gave Heather a goodnight kiss on the forehead, and Dawn a hug, then sent a bubble crystal off to Nicholas in the kitchen as he continued walking down the hallway. The chef would send a goblin up to their room with a tray in a matter of minutes, but in the meantime, Jareth had some business to attend to. He ran up a pair of stairs and knocked on the heavy doors at the top.

"Open up, Adair," he commanded quietly, then waited. He was king and this was his castle, but he would not barge his way into his brother's rooms unless forced to. After a minute or two he still did not hear any footsteps.

"I'll not ask again," he said louder. Still nothing.

Jareth pushed the doors open and strode quickly inside. Adair was not, as Jareth thought he would be, laying in bed sulking, nor was he in the washroom. He looked across the room to the open window and walked over to it. He stuck his head out the window and looked down.

"Oh, great bloody hell."

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	16. Bars, black feathers, and fevers

Weeee! New chappie up finally! It's a longer one too. gasp Here's a few replies for people who've left reviews, so you can skip over them if you like and get to the story. Sorry about the 0.0.0.0 stuff- my stars and/or lines dividing parts kept disappearing whenI would submit the chapter. Grr!

Enjoy.

**Dreamlabyrinth:** Don't think too poorly of Adair- deep down he's truly a great guy, who really loves Dawn , he's just not showing too much of his good side at the moment. (Honestly would you be?) To boot he's been mourning for his long lost love for almost a decade. To suddenly find her- in the arms of your brother, your best friend- is bound to throw even the most steadfast of people. And yes- though I don't say anything about it, Fae can commit suicide if they wish. There's several ways, if you think they follow "traditional" laws of faery people- iron poisoning, ext.

**SciFiMimi:** thanks, TTC is one of my favorites I've written too (this one may equal it too). I think when I'm all done with this story, I'll go through and read them both straight through- just to get the "whole effect," hehe. I was hoping that by saying Rob had white hair it wouldn't give too much away, but would maybe just _start_ to point you down that path of suspicion.

**0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0**

Chapter 16: Bars, black feathers, and fevers

A knock at the door startled Dawn early the next morning as she was carefully applying a little lipstick. She got up from the vanity she'd been sitting at, quickly pulling on her robe, to go answer it. Jareth was there, and though he was hiding it well, he still looked slightly agitated.

"Good morning," he said. "Is Heather awake as well?" Dawn shook her head.

"I couldn't keep her in bed. She woke up before me and was so excited.. She kept jumping on the bed though."

"But that's what they're there for!" a voice over Dawn's shoulder yelled. Jareth smiled.

"She's right you know. Everyone used to sleep on the ground, or on straw mattresses, before some bloke decided to invent a bed to have something to jump on.." He bent down and picked up Heather as she jumped. She practically beamed at him.

"I told you so," she said to Dawn, who, outnumbered, just rolled her eyes.

"All right, all right. But I still think they're for sleeping.."

**0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0**

After Dawn had quickly dressed, they were shown to the dining room and ate a large breakfast, courtesy of Nicholas.

"Thank you, it was delicious," Dawn told him as he was taking away empty dishes and plates.

"Mm hmm," agreed Heather, licking the last of some sticky frosting off of her fingers. As Nicholas bent to remove Jareth's tableware, he noticed he seemed rather distracted, and kept looking towards the large windows.

"Perhaps you like me to show Heather the stables, sir?" Jareth tore his attention away from the windows, and up to the chef.

"That would be an excellent idea. Heather, would you like to go?"

She looked at her mom for permission, then nodded. "Horses?"

"Aye," Nicholas said, taking her hand and leading her towards the door. "Horses of all colors, and we've even got a unicorn stallion in there.."

"Oooh.." they heard Heather exclaim before the door closed behind them.

Dawn looked at Jareth. "You don't really have a unicorn stallion, do you?"

Jareth nodded.

"Oh." She looked surprised, but waited for Jareth to continue.

He looked again towards the window, his brows creased slightly. Dawn stole a quick look in that direction. Nothing but a window, with some ivy growing up the edges, and a bit of hedged landscape beyond. Well, nothing, unless you counted that small fairy urinating on one of ivy leaves..

"Jareth? Is there anything you wanted to talk to me about?" she asked quietly.

"Mm, yes.." he said somewhat distantly, then finally looked towards her. She raised one eyebrow expectantly.

"Well, the thing is, I'm at a bit of a loss of what to do right now."

Dawn nodded.

"Heather is Adair's child, but you're both here, and Adair's missing."

"Missing? Where would he go?"

Jareth shook his head. "I don't know, but I found this on his window ledge." he handed her a small, black feather.

"I don't understand," she said, turning in her fingers.

"Well, he's transformed into his bird form- a crow- generally that's only done for traveling long distances.." He looked her in the eyes. "Like going Aboveworld," he added quietly.

"Oh." Dawn looked back down at the feather. "I didn't know he could too."

"Yes." Jareth decided he'd tell her _later_ that anyone born of royal blood could. Instead he took the feather from her and laid it on the table, taking her hands in his.

"Dawn, is there any place you can think of that he may have gone?"

She closed her eyes and tried to think of what she knew of this man. Someone she'd only known for a day.. The time she'd spent with him flashed before her eyes; scenes of him leaving, them together in bed, talking on the couch before that, her looking at the bartender..

She looked up at Jareth.

"I think I know where he is."

**0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0**

Slightly unbalanced, Dawn grabbed a hold of Jareth as they suddenly appeared in a dirty bathroom stall lit with fluorescent lights. They both held still for a moment, listening to several voices.

"Well, I don't see why ya wanna take that loser home," one said. Female, with a bad Jersey accent.

"Oh, come on. He's a dish and you know it." A second woman's voice said.

A third, deeper voice from the stall next to them laughed. "Yeah, you can bring home _that_ dish to Papa any time!" Dawn grimaced slightly. No wonder there was always urine on the toilet seats here. The trio giggled, and they heard the sound of a toilet flushing, then the door squeaked as they left, and the room was quiet.

"Ok," Dawn said, opening the door and looking out. The room was empty. "Should I go look while you stay here?"

"You want to leave me in the girl's lavatory?" he exclaimed. Clearly this was something he'd never done before. Because of the goblins they did not have plumbing and electricity Underground, but it did not take a genius to add two plus two.

"Well, I _thought_ it was the girl's bathroom.." Dawn muttered. "No. I just.. Well, I don't know what else to do with you. You'd definitely draw some unwanted attention waltzing out of the women's restroom, and even if no one noticed that, you'd still stand out a bit." Like a sore thumb, she thought.

Jareth actually looked slightly hurt.

"Besides," she quickly added, "I'm not sure your brother wants to talk to you at the moment."

"And you think he'll want to speak with you?"

Dawn nodded. "Ok, fair enough-" She went quiet again as the door squeaked open, and someone went into the stall next to them. Jareth had the grace to look slightly embarrassed as they listened to several curious noises coming from that direction. A flush was heard, then the sink running, and eventually the door squeaked again as the occupant left the bathroom.

"Look," she turned to Jareth. "Just give me two minutes- _two minutes_- to see if he's there and talk to him. If I don't come back in here.. after two minutes.. you can come out and try things yourself."

"Ok." he assented, but held up a hand. "Two minutes." Dawn nodded, then left the stall. After he heard the squeak of the door shut, Jareth quickly reached up and locked the stall door.

How did he get into messes like this?

**0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0**

Dawn walked out of the poorly-lit bathroom and into the even darker bar. After giving her eyes a moment to adjust, she scanned the smoke-filled room. Even though she had never been a regular at this bar, she still recognized a few faces, even after all these years, though not the one she sought. Turning, she saw the same old bartender was still there.

"Excuse me, but have you seen a dark haired man in here?" she said, trying to get his attention. He turned and looked at her, then looked slightly surprised.

"Boy, I 'aven't seen you in a while.."

Dawn nodded.

"I've been busy.." she thought of an excuse, "traveling." The bartender nodded absently. It wasn't his job to listen, just to keep the glasses full.

"Anything for you, miss?"

"No, thank you. But, please, have you seen-"

"Right, right, 'ave I seen a dark haired man?" She nodded, and blushed slightly. The bartender leaned forward conspiratorially.

"Actually, I 'ad a dark-haired fella come in late last night and ask for the strongest stuff we 'ad. He's been drinkin' ever since." He pointed to a corner of the room, where a back was facing them. He pulled the handle of a baseball bat into view under the counter. "You be careful, miss." She nodded and thanked him.

Why on earth had she ever come to a dump like this, she thought as she made her way through the crowd to the corner. Besides, she never drank at bars- by far she preferred a nice glass of wine with dinner than most drinks that would be served here.

As she got closer to the person's back, she saw the long black hair and knew it was Adair. She stood behind him a few feet away, wondering how exactly you went about saying hello to your child's father, whom you haven't seen in eight years and have only known for a day. She walked forward a few steps.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked quietly. It was the best she could come up with.

"No," was the answer, barely a murmur. His head didn't move an inch and she knew he didn't see that it was her. An alien could have sat next to him, just then, and he never would have known.

Dawn sat in the chair next to him and turned to face him. Knowing the power of being stared at, she did just that. She didn't say a word and just sat, staring at him while he drank.

After a few moments she saw him look out of the corner of his eye, then keep on drinking. After a few more moments he started fidgeting with his glass.

"Look, do you have a problem?" he asked, finally turning to face her. When he saw who it was he quickly turned back to his drink.

"What are you doing here?" he spat. He wasn't exactly mad at her- as far as he was concerned she was an innocent bystander caught between himself and Jareth- but at this point he was several drinks beyond sobriety, and knew that the only way she could have returned was if _he_ had brought her.

"Adair.." she started, and he kept his eyes locked on the glass in his hands. "How did you get here?"

"Same as before," he shrugged. "I stole one of Jareth's crystals. Flew out of my window and up to his room while he saw to you. Easy."

Dawn nodded, and they sat in silence for a moment.

Wanting a reply to a question that had haunted her for years, she looked at Adair. "Did you really love me, then?"

He closed his eyes and took another long drink. "Yes," he replied, quietly. She saw a tear run down his cheek and she brought one hand up and brushed it away. "Did you, me?"

Dawn nodded.

"Why did you do it?" he asked after a while. "Granted, you didn't know who he was, but how could you think I wouldn't come back? I _promised_."

"In my world, promises are rarely kept and easily broken." Adair didn't say anything. "After so long, I guess I just gave up hope."

"So it was despair that made you run into his arms? That made you bear him a child?" he said before he could think about it. He hung his head, ashamed for speaking in anger like that to a woman.

Dawn said nothing. It'd be no use talking to him while he was so drunk he would take offense at any small thing she said. It was no use telling him everything that really happened because he wouldn't remember any of it in the morning.

"Come back with us and let me explain everything tomorrow."

He kept silent.

"Adair?"

Eyes remained permanently fixed on his glass.

"I'm. Not. Going. Back. With. Him." The words were ground out like glass shards.

"Oh, forget Jareth!" Dawn shouted. Several dozen pairs of eyes turned to look at them, then slowly turned back to their previous entertainment.

"Forget him. This is about you and me," she said, quieter. "Please, just look at me, Adair. Once," she pleaded softly.

Adair finally turned and looked her in the eyes. Dawn was shocked to see how bad he looked- his eyes were red and the bags underneath them showed how long he'd been up drinking, and his face had a slight sheen to it. Sweat, perhaps.

"Come with us," she repeated. "I'll-"

A noise across the room interrupted her.

"Please, madam, let me pass!"

She recognized Jareth's voice.

"Oh, god. I'll be right back," she told Adair and quickly crossed the room to find Jareth near the door of the women's bathroom, trying to get past a rather large woman who already had a twelve o'clock shadow. At least.. maybe it was a woman.

"Ooh, he called me 'madam,'" the deep-voiced woman laughed. Dawn recognized the voice from the bathroom.

"There you are!" Dawn called out loudly as she pushed her way between two of the women to Jareth. "I told you, the door on the _left_ is the men's room!" She sighed in exasperation as she tugged on Jareth's arm.

"Thank you," she turned to the ladies, "he's visiting from overseas. He's a little confused about all of this, you know, driving on the wrong side and all that.." she quickly drug Jareth back to Adair's corner of the bar.

"That wasn't two minutes!" she hissed as they got to the corner. Before Jareth could argue she gave him a stern look. "Sit," she said, pointing to an empty seat a few feet away. "Let me try and sort this out," she said, and walked back over to Adair.

Jareth sighed, sat down in the chair, and looked at the other people also sitting there. Three men- two with brown hair and one balding blonde man- lay sprawled across the tabletop, surrounded by empty glasses, half empty drinks and bottles in their limp hands. Leaning across the table, Jareth relieved the sleeping blonde from his drink, and quickly knocked it back in one gulp. After setting the empty glass on the table, he dug around in a small pocket inside his jacket. Pulling something out, he replaced it in the man's empty hand, curling his fingers around to hold the item.

There, that ought to cover it.

He heard some voices murmuring and glanced back over at Dawn. Adair and her were looking at each other, and he saw Dawn's mouth move slightly. Finally, Adair nodded. When they both started standing, Jareth quickly stood and walked a few steps towards them.

Adair had one arm slung across Dawn's shoulders, mainly for support- he didn't tell Dawn but was feeling rather weak- but partly as a sign toward his brother to leave her alone. Dawn, meanwhile, was helping Adair walk towards the men's bathroom. As Jareth approached, Dawn held up a free hand.

"He still has the crystal from earlier, and he's going to use that to take us back. Wait a few minutes then follow us."

Jareth nodded as they walked past, Adair outright ignoring his older brother's presence. He went back to the empty seat and waited a few minutes, eyeing the remaining glasses idly, wondering what they were. The Underground Fae knew about alcohol (as did the goblins- they had several illicit distilleries hidden throughout the Bog), but they only had discovered a few things like brandy and wine, so these odd smelling substances were very foreign to him. (Jareth would have been surprised to discover that a new liquor- similar to Aboveground's vodka- had already been made by his goblins for nearly a hundred years.)

Movement from the now drinkless blonde man startled Jareth, and he quickly decided to leave before the trio awoke. As nonchalantly as he could, he stood and left the table.

By the time Jareth reached the men's bathroom door, the blonde man from the table woke. Sleepily looking around, he glanced at the other two men and croaked out a laugh.

As he opened his hand to reach for a glass, something fell out of his hand and went _tink_ on the hard wood of the table. Reaching down, the man's eyes went wide. He held up a flawless white diamond the size of a pea between his fingers.

**0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0**

Dawn had that dizzying feeling of traveling again, then they emerged in what she could only assume was Adair's bedroom. It was large, and like their guest bedroom, was nicely furnished, though mainly in red shades, not whites.

She barely had time to take in her surroundings, however, because she was pulled off balance by Adair falling. She quickly braced herself to support him, but was surprised when she looked at him. His face was pale, and had a wet sheen to it. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was coming in quick, short gasps.

"Dawn.…" he moaned quietly.

"Oh, hang on, Adair." She was surprised, and didn't know what was wrong, but you didn't become a mother without learning a few things. Doing about the only thing she could do, she helped him to the large bed and lay the upper half of his body onto it. Once she was sure he wouldn't fall, she picked up his feet and pushed him up onto the bed properly.

"Daaaw…" he tried again, one hand waiving in the air slightly as he looked for her.

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"I'm right here." She put a hand on his forehead; it was hot and feverish. Where was Jareth? Would he have come back to this room too? She quickly looked towards the door. It wouldn't do any good to leave Adair to go look for Jareth- she had no idea where this room was in the castle, or where Jareth would have turned up again.

She pushed Adair's long black hair back from his sticky forehead.

"I'll be right back," she told him, and ran to one of the doors on the far wall. Opening one, she found a closet. Trying the next, she found the washroom, and quickly grabbed a clean cloth from the cabinet and dipped it into the basin of water that served as Adair's sink. Wetting it and squeezing it out, she ran back to the bed and placed the cool cloth over his forehead.

"Ddd.." he mumbled again, then closed his eyes as he drifted into unconsciousness.

Dawn climbed up onto the bed next to Adair and squeezed his hand again, holding the cloth still with the other.

"I'm here, it's okay.." she told him, and hoped that Jareth would get there soon.

**0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0**

Jareth reappeared in his own bedroom, and sighed. He really hoped that Dawn would be able to patch things up with his brother. If she couldn't, and Jareth could not persuade her to stay and forget her life Aboveground, that was one thing, but Heather..

Jareth looked out his bedroom window to the spread of tan-green land beyond.

Heather couldn't leave.

He wouldn't let her.

**0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0**

As Dawn made what seemed like the hundredth trip to Adair's washroom to remoisten the cloth, she wondered again where Jareth was. Would it be safe to leave Adair long enough just to venture out into the hallway to look for someone? She remembered some bit of her mother's journal mentioning walls moving and dead-ends appearing in the doorway you just left..

Wringing out the water, she quickly returned to Adair's bed only to find him sleeping, not unconscious. She wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not, and though his breathing was shallow and slow, he seemed to be resting easily enough.

After returning the cloth to the washroom basin, Dawn eyed the bedroom door again.

Well.. What if she just stuck her head out to see if anyone was nearby in the hallway? And maybe if she stood _in_ the doorway nothing would happen? No one was going to be found if she simply stayed where she was, that was for sure!

Resolutely, she walked to the door, put her hand on the doorknob and pulled, and was nearly knocked off balance when it pushed inward suddenly. Jareth stood on the other side of the door like a deer in the headlights.

"Sorry, I was coming to see how the-" he started.

"It's about time you got here!" Dawn interrupted and pulled him to where Adair lay on his bed.

"We got here and he immediately just kind of went limp," she told Jareth as he quickly bent over and started examining his brother. "He was sweaty, and his breathing was off, and he felt really feverish. He'd been unconscious, but just went to sleep a minute ago."

Jareth nodded absently and felt Adair's forehead.

"His fever's gone.."

Dawn frowned as Jareth stood, looking down at his younger brother.

"You never would listen, would you?" he murmured. Jareth continued looking at Adair for a moment, then turned to Dawn. "He's in withdrawals."

"Does the alcohol affect you that much?" she asked.

"No, he's in shock from the lack of magic Aboveworld. The damned fool shouldn't have left in the first place, he hasn't got the immunity built for it as I have, and he was gone too long anyways."  
9;"But he was ok when I first met him years ago.." Dawn said.

"Yes, but it was your Halloween- Samhain as it is known elsewhere- and the veils between all worlds are thinnest on that day. Magic would be very much afoot on a night such as that." he said as he walked over to the fireplace and coaxed a large fire into existence.

"Oh."

"At any rate, he's already gone through the Fire Shock and he's probably just now entering the Sleep of the Dead." He saw Dawn's grimace and continued. "During this time he'll sleep for days upon end, and his breathing will be exceedingly slow. As his body shuts down, his core temperature will drop significantly, so we have to keep him warm.." he trailed off as he walked to the closet and pulled several thick blankets out.

Dawn looked pointedly at Jareth as he spread the furs and covers out across the bed, nearly burying his brother underneath the mound.

"And.. is this.. fatal?"

Jareth finished adjusting the blankets before he looked up at Dawn.

"It can be," he said quietly.

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	17. Family similarities

Thank you everyone who's reviewed so far, I appreciate the words of encouragement- it's always heartening to know people are reading.  
Andrea

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Chapter 17: Family similarities

"We will have to keep him warm," Jareth said, giving the covers a final twitch, "and we'll know in a few days if he's ok."

"How will we know?" Dawn asked, anxious.

Jareth looked up at her, grim.

"He won't be dead."

------------------

Jareth closed the door behind him and started down the hallway. He'd left Dawn to go retrieve Heather from the stables and take her back to the girls' shared room. He'd given Dawn a crystal and shown her how to summon him if needed, but told her, for now, Adair should be ok. He knew she didn't like hearing the bad news put so bluntly, but Jareth was being honest- he'd only heard of a few people to survive going through withdrawals, and they'd only been Above for a short while. He'd been there for _hours_, all night even. Adair's chances weren't good.

He walked down the empty corridors towards the stable.

He loved his brother; all too often he was often a nuisance, but he did love him, and hoped deep in his heart Adair would pull through it ok. Not only for his own sake; Adair was a good man and didn't deserve such an end, but for Dawn's and Heather's sake as well. Dawn needed to finally have someone in her life who loved her and could love her as much as Jareth knew Adair did. And Heather.. She needed to know her father.

Jareth stopped suddenly in the middle of the hallway, stunned.

Sarah and Dawn. And Adair.. his _brother_.. And then Heather..

Because she was his brother's child, Heather was not only going to be Jareth's heir to the thrown, she was _his niece_. His blood relative. Dawn was his, well, potential sister-in-law, by human standards..

His face lit up at this new revelation, then he quickly leaned against a door in the middle of the corridor because his knees were suddenly very shaky. Jareth felt extremely daft for only just figuring this all out, but the feeling was replaced by one of immense gratitude and relief of his earlier predicaments.

He fought back the tears swelling at the corners of his eyes.

He had always been by himself. Sure, he had his brother and Nicholas, and they were there often, but really, Jareth had always been alone.

But now..

He had a _family_.

-----------------------

Dawn lay in bed next to Adair, under the covers with him in spite of the stifling heat in the room, and brushed a lock of dark hair away from his eyes. His breaths were regular and calm, though very slow. She'd only counted a few of them in the time since Jareth had left.

She turned to lay on her side, and propping her head up on her elbow, looked at Adair, seemingly sleeping. Her eyes followed the line of his forehead, slightly sweaty from the fire blazing in the corner, down to his nose. He had a unique nose- it wasn't small, but it had a very slight inward curve to it. She smiled slightly. She _knew_ that nose. Her daughter shared it with Adair.

Slowly, she reached out and traced a fingertip over his lips. The top was regular sized, but the bottom was a little fuller- perfect for sticking it out in an unusually effective pouting manner.

She brought her hand back up.

His eyebrows, too, she knew. Both his and Heather's had this slight peak to it- a devil's brow, she thought it was called, that seemed to give them the eternal appearance of both surprise and mischievousness.

She brought her hand back down to rest on her pillow as she continued looking at him. Couldn't he see the similarities between himself and Heather? They were right there, as plain as day..

No, she decided. No, he couldn't see them. She'd spent eight years with her daughter, and Adair had never seen her before. It wouldn't be as plain to him as it was to her.

She hoped he would pull through this withdrawal illness ok.. She wanted to tell him he was a father, _the_ father of her child.. She didn't know how he would react to it, if and when he finally did believe her, that Heather, despite her blonde hair, wasn't Jareth's child. Dawn just wanted the waiting to be _over_. She wanted to know if the man who claimed to have loved her, the man she'd spent eight years of her life waiting for, really cared at all.

Would he wake up the same man she loved long ago? The man she'd spent a night of passion with, knowing he loved her and that they would be together forever?

Or would he wake up different? Would she find the jealous, possessive man from the bar again? If Adair came through, and _that_ was the man that woke to meet her, she would leave, and never tell Heather about him.

She desperately hoped it wouldn't be, though.

Snuggling closer to his body, Dawn moved her mouth up to Adair's ear.

"Hey in there," she said. "I know you're sick, but if any part of you can hear me, I wanted to tell you that that little girl out there is _your_ baby girl.. You just pull through this and I'll show that to you.."

Adair showed no signs of hearing her, but she still felt better for saying it.

Curling up against him, she fell asleep.

-----------------------

Heather was just finishing making the rounds of the stables with Nicholas when Jareth appeared.

"All's well, milord?" he asked.

Despite the slightly haggard appearance to him, Jareth seemed to have a slight bounce in his step.

"Adair's ill," he said, "withdrawals." Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "Dawn's staying with him, but for now," he reached down and offered Heather his hand, "I have something very important to show this one.."

Nicholas nodded. He'd report later to Jareth's office and be briefed on the afternoon's occurrences. "Till later," he said to Heather.

"Bye, and thank you."

He nodded and left.

Jareth looked down at Heather. "How much do you know about birds, Heather?"

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	18. Transformations

Author's Notes: Never fear, another chapter is here!  
Ok, that was really cheesy, but I've got another chappy up for you, so deal with it. Thanks to all who've been reading and reviewing.  
Dreamlabyrinth- thank you for your comments as always, I'm always glad for the faithful readers who respond. I AM working on this story still, don't worry! And yes, I've already thought ahead on whether or not Heather is able to transform into a bird or not. wink I also thought it's about time Jareth gets a family- especially after all he'd been through in TTC! Poor guy!  
Ladyofthedragons1- hehe, I know! We'll see!  
Nobody (anonymous)- thank you, I'm glad to hear you like the story so far. I hope I don't disappoint with the ending. ;-)  
Enjoy!

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Chapter 18: Transformations

Jareth and Heather sat cross-legged on the grass in the center courtyard of the castle again. This was about their fourth session that week, and as before, Heather sat with her eyes closed, and listened to Jareth as he spoke.

"Slow your breathing, and be aware of everything inside of yourself.. Do you see or feel anything?"

Eyes still closed, Heather shook her head slowly. "No.."  
Jareth searched his memory for when his father had been teaching him how to transform. It had been so long ago..

'_Hold your arms out loosely at your side.. Imagine they're wings. Feel the feathers growing out of your skin, feel your toenails forming into talons, feel your bones growing lighter, picture the land falling away from you as you take off..' Jareth repeated the words he'd been told. _

Heather stuck her arms out from her body and let her hands rest on the grass. Jareth watched her as she concentrated, but nothing happened.

"Nothing's happening," she echoed his thoughts after a moment. He nodded.

"Do you feel any sort of.. bird feelings yet?" he asked her, not knowing how to word it so she would understand. He had been decades older than herself when he had first learned to transform and fly. He knew and understood the magics behind it, and he still remembered that it had taken him a while to learn.. What had held him back? He searched his mind again.

'_Maybe you should watch for a moment,' his father had told him. As the young Jareth had sat, his father had gone through the awesome shifting and took the form of a hawk. _

"It might help if you watch me, Heather," Jareth told her. She nodded, and opened her eyes, alert and watchful. He concentrated and suddenly formed into his barn owl form. He spread his wings and flapped them, sending little drafts of wind at her, as if to say 'See? Nothing to it.'

He changed back to Fae. "Do you know what type of bird you would like to change to?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "No.. I mean, not really."

Jareth nodded. "That's ok. Let's postpone this for now, and you think some more about what sort of bird you feel you are, deep down." She nodded, frowning a little. "Don't worry- as soon as you think you know, we'll try again."

They stood up and Heather took Jareth's hand as they walked back towards the castle.

"Do we still have to keep this a secret from Mommy?" Heather asked, looking up at Jareth. She'd done well so far that week keeping quiet about their afternoons spent together. She hadn't _lied_ to her mom about what they were doing, that would be wrong; she just never brought it up.

He nodded.

"For now.." he said.

----------

A soft knock on the heavy bedroom doors woke Dawn. Yawning, she sat up in bed.  
"Come in," she said, pulling the covers back up around Adair's shoulders to keep him warm. Heather and Jareth walked in, quietly.

"Did you have fun at the stables?" Dawn asked her daughter. She appreciated the time Jareth was willing to spend with her while Dawn was preoccupied with Adair. The moment he woke she wanted to be there with him. And if he didn't wake..

Heather looked up at Jareth and he raised an eyebrow. "Yes, thank you," he answered for her. Though physically she should be able to, until they knew whether Heather actually _could _learn the magics required to transform, Jareth did not want to needlessly worry Dawn any more than she already was. And besides, they'd walked _through_ the stables to pet the horses on the way back to Adair's room.

He cleared his throat. "Any changes from Adair?" he asked her.

She looked down at the dark-haired man and shook her head slowly. He had dark hairs speckling his face- the beginnings of a beard growing in- but beyond that, he was unchanged. Jareth nodded.  
"I'll stay with him for a tonight; why don't you go get some dinner and take some time off for yourself? Go, have a nice bath and relax?" he offered.

Stretching, Dawn reluctantly nodded.

"Heather, can you show her to the kitchens?" the girl nodded- she'd shown a remarkable ability to navigate the complex tangles of hallways and rooms of the castle. "Nicholas will see that you have whatever you two need." Dawn nodded wearily, and gave him a grateful hug before leaving.

"Call for me, if.."

He nodded. "I will."

----------

Dawn and Heather walked down the hallway, holding hands.

"So did you have fun today?" Dawn asked her daughter.

Heather nodded.  
"What did you guys get to do?" she pressed further.

Heather shrugged. "We stayed outside a lot.." she trailed off. Suddenly brightening, she turned to her mom in the hallway.

"Mom! Do you think more imaginary animals in our world really exist here?"

Dawn laughed. "Well, I don't know. Goblins and fairies are certainly real here.. Do you mean like dragons and unicorns?"

"Yeah, something like that.."

"I'm not really sure. We'll have to ask Jareth, I guess."

Seemingly satisfied, Heather nodded, and they continued on to the kitchens.

----------

Jareth sat in a plush, oversized chair next to the bed. He sat watching Adair slowly breathing. He looked up at the clock again; only an hour or so since he'd last looked at it.. He sighed. This was going to be a _long_ night.

Settling back in the chair, he leaned his head back and tried to get comfortable for sleep.

"So why are you so quiet, tonight? Tell me more about your afternoon," Dawn asked Heather while Nicholas served them. They'd already asked him about the imaginary animals- he'd answered that some were native to the Underground, and others were not. But perhaps they existed in other places.

Heather shrugged. There wasn't a whole lot she could tell her mom about her week without lying to her, or letting her know that she'd been trying to transform with Jareth. But what was the harm in that? They weren't doing anything wrong.. Jareth just hadn't wanted to tell her to spare her the worry. But that's what moms _did_, they _worried_. And besides, Heather couldn't _do_ anything. They just sat there on the grass.

Heather looked up at her mom, brightening a little.

"Well, Jareth is teaching me this neat trick.."

----------

The bedroom doors suddenly burst inward some time later, waking him. Dawn strode into the room, her steps quick and jarring, clearly upset.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing!" she yelled at him.

Clearly upset, and clearly _angry_, he thought sleepily, trying to wake up.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, though he thought he knew..

Dawn held out her hand before him, holding up the black feather he'd found in Adair's room nearly a week ago. "I knew _you_ could change into a bird," she said, her voice accusing, breaking with an emotion he couldn't immediately identify.

"Dawn," he started, but she interrupted him.

"But then you go and tell me all about Adair changing into a bird and flying off," she yelled, and gestured towards the bed where he lie prone, "damn near getting himself.." she suddenly broke off again, her face screwed up in a grimace.

Jareth saw the glimmer of tears forming at the corners of her eyes. _Damn near getting himself killed_, she had been going to say. She was scared. He quickly stood and went to her, pulling her to him in an embrace, intending to comfort her. This only seemed to feed her rage, and she shrugged him off.

"And then," she continued yelling, "you start trying to teach _her_!"

She shoved the black feather against his chest, and hard. She was livid. Her voice was bleeding with the betrayal she felt, and he could tell she was struggling to hold back more tears.

He walked to her again and grabbed her by the shoulders, and gripped more firmly when she tried to shake him off again.

"Dawn, she.." he started, but she struggled again, and he shook her hard, once.

"Damnit, listen to me!"

Dawn stopped and looked at him, a fire in her eyes.

"Dawn, Heather was never in any danger- even in the very unlikely event that she transformed wrong," he heard Dawn's sharp intake of breath- maybe mentioning that possibility wasn't such a good idea- "I was there to help her straighten herself out. It is complicated magic, yes, but _not_ dangerous." Actually, there were a few scarce records in the study of people seemingly disappearing after transforming, but Jareth had never seen or heard of it happening in his lifetime. He couldn't even verify the accounts.

Dawn stood there, staring at him, and a few tears ran down her cheeks.

"She hasn't learned how to transform yet." He saw her blink- that was news to her. "But it's very important that she learns how to do this."

Dawn stared up at him, silent for a moment. When she finally spoke, when she ground out each word, he could tell she was on the verge of a breakdown.

"I.. can't.. loose.. her.." she sniffed, then almost in a whisper, "she's all I have.."

Jareth pulled her to him again and gave her a fierce hug. This time she did not resist, but just stood there limply, her arms at her sides.

"My dear girl," he whispered to her as he held her, "you are _never_ alone.." He brought one hand up and caressed her hair as he spoke to her. He gave a little laugh. "Do you know how long it took me to figure out that Heather was my niece? A blood-relative?" He could feel her shake her head slightly. "Well, a lot longer than I'd care to admit- I do consider myself a intelligent person," he joked.

He held her for a moment.

"Dawn?"

"Mm?" It was a response, at least.

"Promise me that if you ever need someone to talk to, you'll come to me, or Nicholas, or _anybody_, but that you'll _talk_?" He waited for another reply as he held her.

"Okay," she murmured after a second or two. Jareth felt her arms move as she slowly brought them up to wrap around his back, returning his hug. "Okay.."

"Even if.." he started. "Even if we do lose Adair, you still have a family, you still have a home waiting here, if you wish.." he heard her sniff again, then felt her shake her head against his chest. "Okay?"

"Okay.."

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	19. Progress and promises

Nervous laugh So.. I was checking over things the other day and finally realized that I've only updated through chapter 18 so far. Oops. I've got a few more chapters ready, but they are still awaiting beta-ing, so for now, this will have to tide you over.

Please read and review- I always love to hear you reader's opinions and thoughts.

Andrea

------------------------------------------

Chapter 19: Progress and promises

Heather woke to a bright stream of sunlight shining in her face. Sitting up, she looked around the room groggily. Her mom was still sleeping in the other bed. Why was she up this early?

Oh yeah!

She quickly remembered why she had left the curtains open a sliver the night before (to let the sunlight shine in and wake her), and threw back the covers on her bed. She picked up her book off the nightstand and quietly tiptoed to the door. She opened it and snuck out into the hallway, careful to shut the door quietly behind her so as not to wake her mom.

After a quick glance to make sure the coast was clear, she snuck down the hallway, opened another door and went inside, closing it behind her. She had picked this room out earlier in the week; it was another empty bedroom, and apparently hadn't been used in years. A made-up bed sat along one wall, a small dresser next to it, and a large fireplace filled the other wall. It was huge- the stones that made up the floor of the fireplace itself stretched forward several feet into the room in a half-circle shape. Otherwise the room was bare.

It was perfect.

Setting her book down on the stones in front of the fire, Heather carefully pulled the floor rugs and furs back several feet from the circle of stones. She didn't want to take any chances. After she was satisfied all was well, she sat back on the stones near the hearth.

"Um.. Light?" she asked the fireplace, and it immediately ignited. Within a few minutes a nice little blaze was going. "Cool.." she said. She would need the light to see to read her book. Picking it up, she quickly flipped through it to the pages she sought, read over the material once more, then lay the book back down on the stones a few feet away and closed her eyes, concentrating.

Thinking.

_Imagining. _

For nearly an hour, nothing happened. Then, slowly, she felt the first intense stirrings within her.

She did it! No, she thought... She _could_ do it! _Soon_..

Her stomach growled, interrupting her thoughts. How long had she been awake?

Confident in her progress for the day, she arranged the floor rugs and furs back into their former positions, and picked up her book.

"Go out," she told the fire, and it immediately extinguished. Remembering her grandmother's story about the talking doorknockers, she quickly added "thank you," just in case something was listening to her.

She left the room, and closing the door behind her, went to go get breakfast.

----------------------------

Since Jareth had taken over Dawn's watch the night before, she woke that morning well rested- it's amazing how much better you could sleep when the room you were in wasn't nearly as hot as an oven.

Sitting up, she looked over at Heather's bed. Empty. She must be down in the kitchen with Nicholas, getting breakfast, she thought as she shrugged her bathrobe on over her nightgown. Slipping her feet into her pink bunny slippers (one of the technically non-essential items she had allowed herself to bring with her for their visit), she walked to the bedroom door and poked her head out.

Could she find her way to the kitchen by herself yet? She wondered. Deciding this morning was as good as any to give it a try, she walked out in to the hallway.

She recognized most of the paintings and wall hangings as she continued down what she hoped was the right hallway, but that didn't necessarily mean she was headed in the direction she wanted.

Left.. Right.. Straight.. Right..

She was about to give up and start trying to backtrack her way to the bedroom when she heard Heather's peal of laughter from somewhere nearby. Her daughter had to be close, Dawn decided, so she followed the noise down another hallway and strode into the kitchen. Heather and Nicholas were seated at the large table, a giant plate of French toast sat in front of them both.

"Good morning," she said to them as she entered the door. Nicholas quickly stood and pulled out a chair for her. Heather, mouth stuffed with French toast, smiled, and went back to stabbing more squares onto her fork.

"Would you like some French toast," Nicholas asked, "or something else from the kitchens?"

Dawn waved her hand at him to sit back down. "No, no, French toast is fine, thank you." He nodded and disappeared for a minute, then brought her out a steaming plate full.

Dawn took a bite. "Mmm.. My compliments to the chef." She tried not to grin as she remembered Jareth's attempts at the dish.

"Thank you," Nicholas replied, sitting back to his own plate. He eyed her across the table. "Everything is well with Jareth?" he asked, eyebrows raised in question.

Dawn quickly looked at Heather, who was completely ignoring the adults in her quest to see how many squares she could fit on the fork. Content, Dawn looked back at Nicholas.

"Yes.. I was just.. upset about certain going-ons around here." She quickly glanced at Heather then back to Nicholas meaningfully. "I'd also rather this conversation stay here," she added. She didn't necessarily want Heather to know how upset she'd been about Jareth trying to teach her to transform. It wasn't that she didn't trust either of them, but it _was_ dangerous.

Nicholas nodded.

A loud clatter broke their attention, and they looked down at Heather.

"All done," she said as she picked up her plate and fork and took them to the back room to be washed later.

"Would you mind taking a tray up to Jareth?" Dawn asked her when she returned. "I'm sure he's starving.."

"Sure," Heather agreed.

-------------------------

A few minutes later Heather stood before the last flight of stairs up to Adair's room.

So far, so good.

She continued to navigate her way up the stairs, one at a time, keeping one eye on the food on the tray to keep from spilling anything. She'd already splashed a little of the juice earlier when she had been too focused on watching where she was going.

Finally she got to the top of the stairs and stood outside the door. She looked down at the heavy tray, which she carried with both hands to keep from spilling anything else, then she looked back up to the door, which would need one free hand to open.

Crap.

Before she could move, the door swung inward, and Jareth met her surprised gaze.

"I thought I heard someone coming up the steps," he said, smiling, and held the door open for her.

Relieved, Heather walked slowly in and set the tray down on the small table by the bed. Thanking her, Jareth sat down in the chair by the table, picked up the plate, and started eating hungrily.

"Isn't it good?" she asked him.

Mouth full, he nodded. Realizing she couldn't keep asking him questions while he tried to eat, Heather sat up on the bed and looked around the room.

Adair still in his weird sleep under the covers.. the fireplace.. the closet and bathroom doors.. A couple of rugs.. Jareth eating breakfast.. and back to the bed.

Boring.

She looked down at Adair, whom she hoped didn't mind sharing the bed with her as she sat next to him. She didn't think he would have. It had been a little scary- their first night here- with him being mad at Jareth (but she still didn't understand why he was mad, or why he seemed to know her mom too), but sleeping he didn't look like such a bad guy.

"Do you think your brother will be ok?" she asked Jareth, looking back to him as he ate.

He nodded as he swallowed his bite of toast.

"I hope so," Jareth said, sad with the knowledge that Dawn wanted to keep from Heather, at least for now. She had the right to know that Adair was more than just his brother… especially if he wasn't going to make it.. Jareth thought she should know.

Heather picked up one of the thick books off of the nightstand and flipped through it, allowing Jareth to finish his breakfast in silence. It was filled with lots of large medical-sounding words she couldn't understand, but she did see some neat looking pictures and diagrams. Flipping a few more pages, she stopped. _Antidotal Fire, the use of_. Interest piqued, she started reading.

After a while a knock interrupted their silence, and Dawn entered the room.

"Good morning," she said to Jareth. "Any changes?"

He shook his head, and Dawn nodded, not surprised. It had been nearly a week since he'd first gone through the withdraws, and nothing had happened so far. She wasn't sure if this was good or bad.

"Heather, would you like to go outside with Jareth today? I'm sure he could use a little break from watching over Adair.." Out of the corner of her eye, Dawn saw Jareth stiffen slightly at her question.

"Really?" Heather nodded, excited.

"Alright, go downstairs and get dressed, I'm not going to have you playing in the grass in your pajamas."

"I'll meet you outside," Heather told Jareth, and ran out the door. They could hear her thundering down the stairs towards her room until the door clicked shut.

Jareth stood from his chair as she left.

"Go, have fun. I brought plenty of reading material," she said wryly, and showed him a thick book she had brought up stairs with her. _Of Men and Mice_. A book she always thought she _should_ read, though never had had the time to. Well, what better time then now!

"I also had brought this up from the library the other night," she said, and picked up the book Heather had been flipping through when she walked in. _Schlaughmann's Booke of Alements_, the worn leather cover read. She couldn't tell if it was an Underground book that had a poorly-educated author, or Aboveground book that was simply very old. Not that it mattered either way.

"I was hoping I might find something to help Adair," she explained, and Jareth nodded, still quiet. "Have fun outside.." she said, and he nodded.

Suddenly he stepped forward and grasped her in a hug. "Thank you," he said quietly, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She had no idea how much it meant to him that she would still allow Heather to go with him after their earlier conversation.. That she trusted him so.

"I promise she'll be okay."

Dawn nodded, her hair tickling his nose. "You just take care of my girl."

"I will. I promise."

--------------------------------


	20. Fire

Okay, okay, I changed my mind. As penance for not reviewing in so long, I'll let you have one more chapter. Cause this one's a serious cliffy anyways. (evil grin)

But JUST one.

For now anyways.

More coming later on.

Right.

On with the story..

Please R&R.

--------------------------

Chapter 20: Fire

Dawn sighed as Jareth left, then walked over to the bed. She still wasn't comfortable with the idea of him teaching Heather things like transforming, but wasn't it better to safely teach her, than to have her go off on her own and try it?

She sat down on the bed and felt Adair's forehead. Still sticky-warm from the heat in the room, the same as before. She dropped her hand to find his under the covers and squeezed it.

"I'm going to find something that will help you," she promised. "You just have to get better.." Adair's dark eyes remained closed. "Your little girl is outside right now, learning how to become a bird." she told him, the words sounding strange to her. She brushed the hair that had fallen out of his face, gave him a soft kiss on his stubbly cheek, then turned and curled up in the large chair. Picking up her medical book, she started to read.

She flipped to the obvious, _Magickal Withdrawls_, and read the entire section. Twice. Astounded, and a little mad, she realized there were only about two pages of information, once you took away the pictures clogging up the rest of the paper, and nothing of any importance. She could have written the segment just based on what she'd seen happening to Adair so far. Disgusted with herself that she had put so much hope in this stupid book, she tossed it on the table and picked up _Of Men and Mice_.

Settling back into the chair to get comfortable, she read for a while. She was nearly to chapter three before she noticed Adair moving out of the corner of her eye…

--------------------

Once again, Heather and Jareth were seated on the lawn in the center courtyard. They both were cross-legged, had their eyes closed, and were concentrating on transforming.

"Heather?" Jareth called to her after a while, keeping his eyes closed.  
She nodded, and kept her eyes closed as well. "Mmm?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, but I feel you ought to know.." he trailed off.

Heather opened one eye and saw him looking at her. Opening both eyes, she looked at him, and waited for him to continue.

He sighed. "Your mom wanted to keep this from you, at least for now.. And I feel I should stay out of it, but it's partly my business also.. I can't keep quiet any more."

Heather nodded slowly, not sure what he was talking about. He took a deep breath, then continued.

"Your mother and I have found your father." He watched as Heather's eyes grew wide. "Would you want to meet him?" he asked quietly, "Or would it be too hard, after so long?"

Speechless, Heather sat on the lawn and just stared at him for a while. She'd never really given it much thought, she supposed. The issue of her dad had never really been brought up before. Not like this anyway.

She picked at the grass for a moment, then looked up at Jareth.  
"Is he nice?" She asked. "I mean, it sounds like he really hurt Mom.."

Jareth nodded his agreement. "I think it was all a misunderstanding; I know he wanted to return to her. And yes, he is a nice man."

Heather nodded absently, still deciding between the comfortable present she was living in, or trying to go back and relive the past.

"What does Mom think about it?" she asked.

Jareth shrugged. "I'm sure she'd rather not have me talking to you about it, but I think she's trying to get to know him again."

Heather nodded. "Then I think I'd like to meet him.. Sometime.."

"But soon?" he asked. It might _have_ to be soon, he privately feared.

Heather nodded. "When you think it's the right time."

Apparently satisfied, Jareth closed his eyes again, and Heather did the same. She listened as he started going through all of his speeches that he'd been taught about changing, but she just sat there with her eyes closed, listening. She knew she could change now- she'd felt herself first beginning to earlier that morning in the abandoned bedroom- but now she was outside with the open air, and the grass and the trees, and even the little ants crawling underfoot, and she was nervous. Should she tell Jareth what she'd done that morning? She had just wanted some time to herself to try and figure it out..

She decided she better not tell him. He may be angry with her. So she sat there and listened, trying to concentrate on what she was doing. She willed her heart rate to slow, and listened to the little noises around her; the crickets, and birds and crawly things.

"Reach inside and find the feathers waiting to come out.." Jareth droned on. Heather felt bad about it, but she had learned that she could concentrate better when she was alone, or in this case, ignoring Jareth. Cracking one eye, she stole a glance at him, and saw he was sitting cross-legged, with his eyes closed, deep in thought as he spoke. He probably wouldn't notice if she tuned him out a little…

Eyes closed again, she shut her mind off to the rest of the world, and waited. She didn't go to 'find the feathers' inside her, or even search for 'bird feelings,' she just sat. And waited. It would come.

And it did.

Slowly, Heather felt her pulse quicken, her temperature raise slightly, and the little things inside her start to stir again. It was going to happen this time! Forcing her mind to relax and remain blank, she could feel tiny pinfeathers starting to form just under the surface of her skin all over her body. It didn't hurt, but ooh, it felt so weird!

She didn't dare look at Jareth to see if he was watching or not- she knew any movement from herself may put her back at square one- but she could now feel her nails growing out longer to form talons.

It all happened quickly, but it was going so well, until a high-pitched scream broke Heather's concentration.

"_Jareth_!" It was Dawn, her voice coming from a window high above them. She sounded panicked.

Heather's eyes snapped open, returning in an instant to their normal blue color from the bronze they just been. (In the back part of her mind, she would later remember that she could _feel_ the feathers returning into her skin.) Looking around, she saw that by now, Jareth was in motion. He'd transformed to an owl, and was already on his way up to Adair's bedroom window, wings beating furiously. Quickly climbing to her feet, Heather took the longer route- up the stairs- to her mom.

----------------------------

Dawn turned as the barn owl came flying in through the window, landed clumsily on the floor, then transformed into Jareth. He didn't even have to ask what was wrong, he immediately saw that Adair was convulsing under the covers in the bed.

"He just started doing this, I don't know why. I didn't touch him, I was just reading and.."

Jareth nodded, and grabbed the medical book on the nightstand.

"What's happening to him?" Dawn asked, her voice sounding scared as she watched her former lover twitch violently under the bed sheets.

Jareth shook his head. "I don't know," he answered bluntly. He had to hurry and find out what was wrong and how to fix it- he'd never heard of withdraw patients going into seizures. Could this be related to the disappearance cases he'd heard of? No, there was some other connection with those. "How long has he been doing this?" he asked, flipping through the book.

"I.. I don't know. Maybe a few minutes? I just noticed him out of the corner of my eye while I was reading. I'm not sure when it started." She twisted her hands nervously.

"Here, skip forward to chapter eight- there's more there on the withdraws," he told her, handing her the book and taking the free moment to conjure a crystal. He sent it off to the kitchen, then turned back as Dawn found the page he needed.

"I didn't know there was more in here," she said quietly, wishing she had kept searching through the rest of the book before she had put it down. Perhaps she could have avoided this whole problem.

_Patyents who are not kept warme enough may, by the end of one week, go into seizing fits. _Gods, how hot did Adair's room have to _be_? Jareth thought as his eyes flew across the page. His stomach turned to lead as he read a line towards the end of the chapter. _A carefull eye must be kept upon the patyent, for if he enters this faze, death is most certainly imminent within a fewe minutes. _

"Oh god," he whispered.

Heather came clattering up the stairs and threw open the bedroom door. "What's wrong, Mom?" she asked, out of breath.

"Heather, go to our bedroom and stay there until I come to get you," Dawn quickly told her, then turned back to Jareth. "What do we do?" He was staring at his brother, and seemed to be in shock.

Nicholas came bursting in the room next, carrying a kettle of boiling water in with a hot glove. "Why did you ask for hot water?" He'd had to magic it to the boiling point to have it ready so fast, and was rather winded from that, and then racing upstairs.

Jareth looked up at his friend and chef, then at Dawn. "Warm.." he said, and shook his head as if to clear it. "We have to get him warm, _now_. Come with me and we'll get heavy blankets," he told Dawn. "Go get some clean towels and pour the water on them," he told Nicholas. "As soon as you can touch them without being burned, put them over his body." He and Dawn ran out the door and down the hallway.

Nicholas carried his kettle of boiling water to the bathroom connected to Adair's room, and Heather heard cabinets being opened and closed, followed by splashing sounds. Everyone was so busy that they had pretty much ignored her, trusting that she would have followed her mother's orders and gone to the bedroom.

She'd never seen someone having a seizure before, much less one that was magically-induced. Walking forward slowly, she reached out and touched Adair's hand. It was sticky-hot and he continued to shake under the covers.

Man… Jareth's brother was _really_ sick, she thought, looking at the dying man. She felt bad for Jareth; he was losing his brother, but she also felt a little sick deep down inside. Because Jareth and his brother shared enough of the same features, she felt like she was losing Jareth himself. It was kind of strange though, Adair had such a different shaped nose than Jareth had, she noticed for the first time. Just like hers, Adair's was shaped a little more like a ski slope than Jareth's straight nose was. And Adair's eyebrows had a slight point to them, just like hers did. Under different circumstances she might have laughed; it was so funny how they looked alike. You'd almost think Adair was..

Something tickled the back of her mind- perhaps magic, she thought- and Heather gasped, quickly pulling her hand back from her father's as if she had been burned.

This dying man was her _father_. She knew it.

"There's more in here, Dawn, grab all you can carry, they might be warm enough.."

Dawn's and Jareth's voices carried from down the hall, and she looked behind her guiltily before whirling back to the bed. Turning, she saw the thick medical book sitting on the nightstand.

She'd just looked through that earlier today..

Quickly picking it up, she sat down in the large chair and flipped forward through the pages. Where was it, where was it? Skimming faster, she ignored the words printed at the top corners of the pages and kept flipping until she began seeing pictures that were familiar. _Antidotal Fire, the use of _caught her eye.

She'd _just _read this.

Eyes skimming over the page and the bulleted lists beneath it, she saw what she was looking for, and her heart skipped a second. She reread the caption to make sure she had understood it correctly. She had.

It was the only way.

Jareth and her mom were taking too long with the blankets- and it wouldn't be enough at this point of the game. Nicholas's hot water soaked blankets would be more helpful, but it still wasn't enough. Heather knew it wouldn't be. Adair was going to die right in front of them all if she didn't do something.

Heather carefully threw the book out the open door into the hallway; she didn't want it ruined. She knew that it was important, and they might need it later. Her eyes darted to the fireplace next. She could do it.

"Nicholas, are they ready yet?" Heather heard Jareth calling from down the hallway. From the sound of his voice getting louder, she could tell they were returning with the blankets.

"Yes, I'm bringing them out now," the chef called back, and Heather heard him start walking towards the door to come back into the bedroom.

Making up her mind, Heather acted.

"Shut and lock!" she yelled at both doors, and they snapped shut and clicked like obedient children. Nicholas would be safe enough in the bathroom, and Jareth and Dawn would be ok if they stayed in the hallway. She wouldn't risk any of them as well.

She could hear Nicholas pounding on the inside of his bathroom door, and Jareth got to the bedroom door right as it shut in his face.

"Heather! Open the door, we've got to help Adair!"

"I know.." Heather whispered. Praying she knew what she was doing, she climbed up on the bed next to Adair. Grabbing the hem of the heavy blanket on top of him, she lifted it up and threw it over the top of his chest, covering up to his neck. With that to help keep his jerking arms down, she quickly jumped up and put one leg across his stomach, sat down across his body and leaning forward in a hug to help hold him still. Ignoring the voices yelling at her from behind the two doors, she closed her eyes and willed her mind to empty.

It happened so quickly she gasped. Her eyes shot back open, bronze colored again, not blue. She looked down at her arms and could actually see the feathers starting to form beneath her skin, shading her body with a slight red-orange hue. Her nails lengthened fully out into claws within seconds, and she loosened her grip on Adair to keep from scratching him.

Out in the hallway, Jareth tried vainly to open the door while Dawn looked on.

"Can't you magic it open?" she suggested. He shook his head.

"No. I think she's learned how to use the labyrinth's magic the way I do. It's not going to open that way." He turned back to the door and started throwing himself at it. It rattled on it's hinges satisfyingly. But maybe it would still open, he thought.

"Heather!" He threw himself at the door. _Crash_. "Heather, open up!" _Crash_. "We have to get Adair warm now!" _Crash_. "We've got blankets and Nicholas has the hot water." _Crash_. "We can save him if you let us in."

"No, it's not enough." Heather yelled out, face already covered in feathers. "Stay out there, I don't want you guys to get hurt!" She felt the heat growing within her and knew that it was coming close. She closed her eyes and curled back down against Adair's chest.

Dawn blanched. "What is she doing?" she whispered to Jareth.

He shook his head. He wasn't sure.

Dawn turned and found the medical book out in the hallway where Heather had thrown it. _Antidotal Fire, the use of_ caught her eye and she gasped. "Jareth?" she handed the book to him.

He read the heading and dropped the book, pounding on the door with both his fists and his body.  
"Heather!" No answer. "Heather, listen to me! You can't manipulate fire like that, you're not powerful enough! Even I'm not! You'll get the both of you killed!" No noise could be heard inside the room and Jareth paused in his efforts to get inside. "Come let us in," he begged her.

The room was silent for a few more heartbeats, and they waited. A slight crackling noise could be heard, then a bright light shone from the cracks around the door, and a high-pitched, piercing scream filled the room. Then all fell silent.

"_Heather!_" Dawn cried out, and a tear fell down her cheek. She grabbed for the door handle, then pulled her hand back quickly. The metal handle hadn't changed colors, but it had absorbed a lot of heat, and was oven-hot.

Jareth threw himself at the door again, and it rattled violently. "Almost there," he told Dawn. He backed up and threw himself at the door one more time, this time using all of his influence over the labyrinth to wear down Heather's magic as well. He burst through the door, and somehow managing to stay on his feet, quickly took in the room.

The cloying smell of burned flesh caught his breath, and he wasn't quick enough to warn Dawn to stay out.

----------------------------


	21. Interference

I haven't fallen off the face of the planet! I'm still here!

Thanks to SemiEvilNightOwl for sending me a review and tactfully reminding me that I haven't updated in ages (and that I left it at such an evil cliffy!)..

So never fear, there's more to come.. evil laugh..

Enjoy!

-------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 21: Interference

"Heather?" Dawn came running in the room right behind Jareth, before he could stop her. She took in the smoldering room and screamed. "_Heather!_" She started crying hysterically.

Jareth quickly grabbed her by the shoulders before she could see much and turned her back towards the door, murmuring softly to her. "No," she fought him, trying to run to the bed. "No! Where's Heather?"

Jareth unlocked the bathroom door and opened it, immediately instructing Nicholas as he ushered both of them to the hallway. "Take her down to her bedroom and make her lie down in bed. Make her something to sleep… for a while."

Nicholas nodded and guiding her by the arm, quickly led Dawn down to the kitchens. Jareth could hear her tortured screaming even as he went back in the bedroom and closed the door, resting his forehead on the wood for a moment.

Gathering his resolve, he turned back to the gruesome scene before him.

The room was ruined. Smoke wafted around the ceiling, and everything that hadn't been touched directly by fire was either broken, burned, or melted from the heat.

As he had for the past week, Adair still lay in his bed, though that was now a blackened frame, and the blankets Jareth had placed over him had burnt away to nearly nothing. Jareth knew Adair had stopped moving sometime before they got the door open; the ashes that were the blankets made neat mounds over his legs. His skin was smudged gray and black everywhere from the smoke and fire. Jareth could actually see that small spirals of heat were still winding up from his brother's skin. Jareth prayed that while unconscious, Adair wouldn't have been able to feel the searing heat and pain that would have taken several agonizing seconds to kill him.

Jareth looked down at the bed and saw that a large pile of darker-colored ash was heaped directly over Adair's chest. It was a different color from the ash the blankets had made over the entire bed as they burned. As he walked closer, something metallic caught his eye and he picked it up out of the pile of still-hot ash, ignoring the pain as the metal burned his skin.

It was a button. Just a round little bronze button that said "Osh Kosh," whatever that was. It had been the button on Heather's jeans. Turning it in his hands, and wiping the black soot from it, he remembered that she had worn this pair when they had gone to the graveyard to plant the rosebush on Sarah's grave.

It was just a button. He looked at it a moment longer, then lost it.

He collapsed down onto his knees and fell forward across the bed, folding his arms and burying his face in them, crying. He could feel the button digging into his palm as he clenched his fist.

What went wrong? He told Heather not to try to control the fire, she didn't listen, and now she and his brother were dead. Why couldn't he have gotten the door open sooner? What if he'd tried to reverse her magic instead of overpower it? What if he had just sent Dawn for blankets, and he had stayed in the room also?

What if, what if?

He lifted his head again and looked over the desolation that was his brother's room as tears continued to wash clean rivulets down his ash-smudged cheek. Sniffing, a smoldering red blur caught his attention. He stretched out an arm, and picked up a long, soft object from the ash resting on the bed near Adair's shoulder. He blinked away the tears, and the object came into focus.

It was a feather.

As he pinched the burning edge of the feather to extinguish it, pride overwhelmed Jareth's sorrow for a moment, and an awestruck smile came across his features. She had finally done it. Heather had learned to transform, right before..

The smile vanished.

Right before she had died a horrible death along with his brother.

The room went blurry again as Jareth's eyes teared up. Immersed in his grief, he sank to the floor and put his face on his knees. Sitting forward, his shoulders hunched, he sobbed.

------------------------------

Nicholas led Dawn to her bedroom and made her lay down under the covers.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," he told her, and turned to the door.

"No!" she sobbed, and reached out for him. "Don't leave," she whispered. Her bloodshot eyes were terrified as she watched him. Sighing, he turned back to her.

"I have to go to the kitchens, Dawn," he told her, holding her hand. "I will be _right back_.." he assured her, looking her in the eyes and holding her attention. Slowly she nodded, and let go of his hand.

He stood and walked to the door. "Give me one minute," he told her, and she nodded. He quietly closed the door behind him then ran down the stairs as fast as he could. He did not want to leave her along any longer than necessary. After that trauma, he didn't know if it was safe to.

Arriving in the kitchens, he started barking orders, using what little magic he had to implement and speed the process along.   
"Rosemary, yarrow seed, chamomile," he called out and canisters went flying across the room to him. Carefully but quickly measuring his ingredients out into a glass, he continued calling. "Milk," a glass jar came flying out from one of the back rooms- one that was magically spelled to remain at a cool temperature. "Peppermint, cinnamon, fairy wing scales, oak bark," he continued, and caught the last few containers as they arrived.

Stirring everything with a spoon, he grabbed the glass and started running back up the stairs. Within seconds he stood again outside Dawn's door. Taking a quick second to magic the sleeping potion to warmth, he opened the door.

Relieved to see that Dawn hadn't moved, he crossed the room to her. "See? I'm back," he soothed her, and put the steaming cup on the nightstand. After helping her sit up against the headboard of the bed, he pushed the cup into her hands. "That wasn't even a minute, was it?" he asked as he made her take a sip. She shook her head.

"What is this?" she asked as she took another sip, her eyelids already starting to get heavy. He'd made the brew very potent on purpose.

"Just something to help.." he trailed off.

"Where's Adair?" she mumbled, nearly incoherent.

"He's upstairs.." he said soothingly. Technically not a lie, but he did not need to upset her more at the moment.

She nodded her head as she swallowed another sip, seemingly unaware of what she was doing, or the trauma she had just experienced upstairs. Within a few minutes she had finished the glass and was getting very sleepy. Nicholas took the empty glass from her and lay her down in bed, a little surprised when Dawn reached out across the bed and picked up Heather's old stuffed fox. Clutching it to her chest, she fell deeply asleep.

He watched her from the doorway for a moment, then closed the door quietly behind him.

------------------------------

He returned back up to what had been Adair's room, and knocked quietly on the door. Adair and Nicholas had been very close, and he had liked the little blonde girl very much, but he knew how hard this was all going to be on Jareth. Nicholas was going to have to be the strong one in the castle for a while, and he knew it. He would have to mourn later.

After he'd waited a moment and no noise greeted his knock, Nicholas slowly opened the door. If Jareth was going to chastise him for entering without his consent, he'd deal with the punishment later. There were times when you didn't cross the line between servant and friend, and times when you did.

"Jareth?" he called out, and saw him holding something, standing in front of the windows. Though Jareth had opened them up for ventilation, the smoke still stuck in the back of Nicholas' throat.

"Jareth?" Nicholas called out, walking over to him again when he didn't acknowledge his friend's presence. He held a red and black barred feather in his hand, Nicholas saw. Jareth finally noticed him standing there and turned. He had a dirty smudge across one side of his face, as though he'd wiped away tears with a dirty hand.

"She finally did it," he said, his voice breaking though he had a lop-sided grin on his face. He held up the feather, singed and badly out of shape. "She did it," repeated, his grin contorting as his face pinched up in grief.

Though in numerical years, Jareth and Adair were far older than him, Nicholas was physically and mentally older. He'd never had a son of his own, and over the years of his stay Underground, he had had developed an odd father/son/friend relationship with the pair. And though he'd temporarily hardened his heart to the fact that Adair was gone, seeing Jareth in this condition hurt more than Nicholas ever thought it could. He pulled Jareth to him in an embrace, not minding when Jareth clung to him and squeezed as if his life depended on it. Jareth had always been a very strong person, and even taking into consideration the day's events, the fact that he was so visibly shaken and upset worried Nicholas.

"I _promised _her," Jareth cried angrily, beating the fist holding the red feather against Nicholas' shoulder. "I promised her!"

"It's okay.." Nicholas soothed him. He didn't know _what _Jareth had promised _who_, but it didn't matter at the moment.

"No, no.. it's all my fault…" he moaned. Nicholas tried comforting him again, but Jareth pulled away from him abruptly.

"It's not okay!" he shouted. "I _promised_ Dawn I would take care of Heather! And now that beautiful little girl is gone," he pointed behind him to the smoldering bed, "and so is my brother, and it's all my fault!" Nicholas stared at him. "My brother, my niece- my heir- are _gone_," his voice started cracking as he held back more tears as he shouted, "and I'm going to lose Dawn as well. Do you think she'd stay here, after what happened? She lost the only thing that mattered to her!"

Nicholas looked down at a point on the floor as Jareth kept up his tirade, though it now sounded like he was ranting to whatever god or gods the Fae worshiped. Or perhaps just at Fate itself.

"Losing the love of my life isn't enough?" Jareth seethed as he paced the room, tears streaming unnoticed down his dirt and ash-streaked face. "Having her taken away from me at that crucial moment? Then you decide to take her daughter and granddaughter as well? My brother?" He continued to pace the room, looking like an angry, predatory cat about to strike out. "I don't know why I even bother at times. What good is immortality if everyone you love is taken from you? If I hadn't taken the Ruler's Oath to protect Her… No, forget even that." He waved an arm towards the window. "I should just give up right now-"

The hairs on Nicholas' arms stood up on end, but he ignored that as Jareth's voice suddenly cut off and hundreds of tiny lightning bolts flashed against him. As suddenly as he stopped speaking, his knees bent, and he crumpled to the floor.

Nicholas watched him fall, too startled to react. Magic crackled around his own outstretched fingertips and dissolved into the air like static, leaving an ozone taste in the back of his throat. Quickly realizing what had happened, Nicholas ran forward to check Jareth's pulse where he had fallen, though he was nearly positive the man would be completely unharmed.

His breath caught in his throat for a moment until he felt Jareth's steady pulse beneath his fingers. He was fine. In a deep sleep, but otherwise fine.

But boy, was She either livid or worried, to interfere, using Her magic like that. Nicholas had only heard of that happening once before, and it had been centuries before his or even Jareth's time here… She'd stopped two brothers from fighting to the death over Her lands, he thought. When Jareth woke, he'd tell him about it happening again, and ask to hear the original tale.

But with Jareth magically knocked-out, Dawn due to be sleeping soundly for several hours, perhaps days, and.. several deaths.. Nicholas decided everything was left to him for the moment. Propping open the door, Nicholas lay the red feather on the nightstand by Adair's bed, then carefully lifted Jareth into his arms, and carried him down the hall to an empty bedroom near his own so he could keep an ear out for him later. After gently arranging him on the bed, he pulled a cover up from the foot of the bed to fall over Jareth's unconscious form, then closed the door behind him.

Sighing, Nicholas leaned back on the bedroom door wearily. What was he going to do now? He'd never been through a death here in the castle- he hadn't been here nearly long enough and Jareth and Adair's parents had died long before he arrived- and wasn't sure of the customs regarding such. Should he arrange to have Adair's body buried? Were the funeral pyres more common? Should he have the body wrapped up in cloth, and await Jareth's orders when he woke?

None of the options sounded good.

And when he thought of Heather.. There was nothing left but ashes..

Quickly making up his mind, he decided minimal action was probably best, at least for now. He'd gather up Heather's ashes from off of Adair, and as he did not keep funeral urns lying about the castle, he'd have to store them in a jar from the kitchens for now. After that was taken care of, he'd wash Adair's body clean and send a goblin for yards of cloth to wrap him in. When Jareth woke, he could decide what was best at that point.  
Steeling himself again, Nicholas opened the door to Adair's room, and walked inside with a doctor's indisputable detachment. Once again the residual smoke caught at his throat and he coughed. Waving his hands didn't help any, so he tried to ignore it.

As he walked to the bed, something other than smoke reflecting in the mirror on the wall above the headboard caught his eye and he looked up. A slender Fae woman with nearly translucent white hair and shockingly pale skin stared back at him. She was clad in a pale green dress, and her hair and skin had that faint sparkle that seemed to encompass everything in the land. She just seemed to be watching him, one hand cupping her cheek as she looked meaningfully at him. Starting, he spun around and scanned the empty room, then turned back to the mirror. She was gone.

Looking over the empty room again, Nicholas decided that he shouldn't worry about it- if the woman were a ghost or spirit, she wasn't a threatening one, and had already gone. He'd ask Jareth about that, too, later, but his guess was that she was some past denizen of the Labyrinth, remaining here for her own reasons.

Turning back to the bed, he saw that Adair was terribly filthy; gray ash smudged his skin, and his hair was stuck to his sweaty skin. Nicholas still wondered why Adair's body had sustained only minimal damage from the fire and smoke, when there was so little left of Heather. Leaning forward, Nicholas picked up the long, red feather from the nightstand, studying it a moment. Wishing things would have gone differently, Nicholas put a hand to the younger man's cheek, unconsciously mimicking the woman in the mirror's actions, and sighed.

Having just recently experienced such magic, he was only mildly surprised when he tasted ozone and more small lightning bolts suddenly appeared, crawling over his hand holding the feather, then across to his other hand, then arced as a group to Adair's skin.

He may have only been mildly surprised by the reappearance of the magic-created lightning, but Nicholas nearly jumped out of his skin when Adair's eyes suddenly shot open and he gasped for air.

Surprised, Nicholas dropped the feather he'd been holding and backed up several feet from the bed.

"Adair?" he whispered, astounded.

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	22. A reawakening

Really guys- when I slack off in the update department, don't be afraid to nudge me with an email.. For now, two chappies for you.

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Chapter 22: A reawakening

Coughing forcefully, the black haired man actually expelled a bit of gray dust as he fought to clear his lungs. Bewildered and wide-eyed, he looked at his friend for help, and Nicholas quickly stepped forward, grabbing the younger man under the shoulders and lifting him into a sitting position. Nicholas then ran into the bathroom and brought out a glass of water from the pitcher on the wash basin.

"Here, take a drink and spit it back out," he offered, and with help to bring the cup to his lips, Adair obeyed. Taking back the cup, Nicholas returned with another full cup of fresh water and sitting down on the bed, offered it to him again. This time, Adair downed the glass of water as if he'd been lost in the middle of a desert for months. The hand holding the cup collapsed back on the bed as if it weighed a ton. Nicholas knew the fever must have left him terribly weak, but he was _alive_! Still breathing heavily, Adair looked up gratefully at Nicholas, who had tears rimming his eyes.

"Adair, m' boy!" The older man exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly with emotion, as he grabbed the younger man in a crushing embrace. Adair managed to bring one hand up against Nicholas's back to return the sentiment.

"Don't try to speak, but are you okay?" Nicholas couldn't help but ask.

Adair slowly, cautiously, nodded. Still wide-eyed, he looked around the destroyed room and his eyes found the feather on the floor, where it fell after Nicholas had dropped it. It was smoldering, and had burned down to about half its' original size.

"Agh! The lightning must have caught it again!" Nicholas quickly stamped out the fire and picked it up.

Adair lifted a singed eyebrow a fraction of an inch in question.

"You don't remember anything?" Nicholas asked quietly.

Adair shook his head, silently mouthing the word _no_.

"Oh.. Well…" He cleared his throat. "When you and Dawn returned from Above, you were very ill. You were suffering from withdrawals- when Jareth got to you, you had already progressed through the Fire Shock, and were Sleeping.. Either he or Dawn have stayed by your side constantly, for over a week now, and were poring through the library trying to find something to cure you."

Adair nodded, once, listening.

"You just started convulsing, and they learned that your body temperature had to be elevated, and quickly. While they were getting blankets in another room, Heather.." here he broke off and Adair's eyes widened, urging him to continue. "We think Heather tried to manipulate the fire," he glanced at the now cold fireplace, "though Jareth warned her not to." Adair nodded, and when Nicholas saw tears rimming Adair's eyes, he could tell the other man knew where this story was headed.

"She wasn't able to control it.." his voice broke a little, "..and it consumed her," he gestured towards the bed. Adair looked ill and Nicholas couldn't blame him. "She died trying to save her father."

"Try..ing?" Adair managed to croak out. Nicholas nodded.

"Adair.." he put his gnarled hand over Adair's ash-streaked one to stress his point, "..you _died_. We lost both of you not even a half an hour ago.. That's why.. that's why the ashes are still all over the place. I had just been coming in here to.. take care of things."

Though he turned a slight green shade under the dirt on his skin, Adair nodded again.

Nicholas twirled the feather between his fingers. "Jareth had been trying to teach her how to transform, and he thought she finally did it- perhaps as an escape method from the fire, I'm not sure." He handed the feather to Adair.

"You owe your life to Her, by the way," he continued. "And so does Jareth. She interfered twice to save you lot." Adair looked astounded. "Yes, I know. I'm planning on asking Jareth all about the original time it happened when he wakes. She.. um, She knocked him out magically, through me. And when I picked up the feather, lightning jumped from it, through me, to you. That's when you came back. And we gave Dawn a sleeping draft- she's downstairs now- what with the shock and all."

Adair sat there for a moment, numb.

"Come on.." Nicholas said, rising, wanting to get Adair out of this room of death. "Let's get you cleaned up and into a new room for the night. After a week without, I'm sure a little food in your stomach would help enormously."

After magically, but gently, gathering Heather's ashes on the bed into a small pile and scooping them into a sealable jar from the kitchen, Nicholas helped Adair into a sitting position. Since Adair was still so weak, he didn't protest when Nicholas picked him up and carried him out into the hallway. Knowing the castle as well as he did, Nicholas easily found Adair a new bedroom, and helped him into the spacious bathroom to get cleaned. He summoned for some goblins to bring food and heated water to the bath, then sat with Adair as they waited.

"Then I really am.. was.. her father?" Adair asked quietly, as he twirled the red feather.

Nicholas nodded.

"The firstborn heirs to the throne are always born with blonde hair. It didn't matter that she wasn't Jareth's child.. He had made her his heir before she passed away. I guess she was destined for it."

There was a sharp rap at the door, and the two sat in silence as several goblins came in, delivered a tray of hot food to the night table by the bed, emptied their buckets of hot water into the claw-footed tub, and left.

"Did she hate me?" Adair, who kept his eyes glued to the floor, suddenly asked Nicholas.

"Excuse me?"

"Did she hate me when she found out I was her father?" he repeated, looking up at Nicholas. His shadowed eyes looked haunted. "I mean, the first time she met me I yelled at her mother, and insulted Jareth."

"No, she didn't hate you. That night she was probably scared, but Jareth told me one night he was watching over you, that she said she hoped you would get better. Though Jareth wanted to, Dawn hadn't told her the news yet- she was waiting until you got better."

Adair nodded and was silent again.

"Well, let's come get you soaking. I'm not sure if you still need to be kept warm or not; I don't think you do, but a warm bath will help you relax, and I'm honestly not sure how much of that smoke and dirt is going to come off of you in one go. We may have to get some scouring pads from the kitchen."

After helping the very weak Adair bathe and dress, Nicholas helped him into the bed in his new room, then made sure he was comfortable. The sun had already settled low on the horizon, and the sky was darkening.

"Now don't make yourself sick or anything," Nicholas told him as he set the dinner tray on Adair's lap, "but I want you to eat as much of this as you can. It'll help to build up your strength and magic reserves again."

The glass of goblinberry juice and sandwich looked fine enough, but Adair eyed the bowl of lumpy yellowish liquid. "What is it?" he asked, sniffing carefully.

"Ha, never too old to complain, are you?" Nicholas teased him. "It's something called chicken soup. It's an Aboveworld thing. I've never made it for you before, because you've never been sick. It's supposed to help."

Adair pulled one of the lumps to the surface with his spoon, and looked at Nicholas.

"That's just some vegetables- carrots, celery. _Eat it_."

One corner of Adair's lips lifted slightly in a grin and he obeyed.

"It's not bad," he admitted, and finished the bowl. After he'd finished the juice and most of the sandwich (his appetite not yet returned to normal), Nicholas took the tray from him and set it on the nightstand.

"Was there anything else you wanted?" Nicholas asked, but Adair shook his head. "Then I suggest you get right to sleep, you need it." He sighed. "Heh, we all do. I don't think Jareth or Dawn will be awake yet for some time, but I'll check in on them to make sure before I head to bed myself." Nicholas rose, and stretched, yawning, then paused mid-stretch and looked at Adair.

"Stay in bed in the morning until I come for you. After all that's happened today, I'd rather you not be walking around, firstly, but I'd also like to explain things to them, if they wake, before they see you." Adair nodded, knowing he meant that they'd be expecting Heather too, and that they'd be terribly disappointed. He was, himself.

Nicholas stood there and looked torn for a moment, until Adair nodded and waved him forward again. "Come on," he said, holding out his arms, "but go easy!" Nicholas grinned and walked forward to give Adair one last, fierce hug.

"Goodnight, m'boy, goodnight," he told him, then quickly left the room before Adair saw the tear run down his cheek.

Nicholas closed the door behind him and wiped his face with a hand. Sighing a large sigh that was partly relief, partly sadness, and partly fatigue, he turned and headed back up the hallway to check on Jareth and then back downstairs to look in on Dawn in her bedroom. After making sure both were sleeping, he set off for his own room.


	23. A waking nightmare

Chapter 23: A waking nightmare

Jareth started, waking the next morning from a horrible dream, and looked at the foreign bedroom walls around him. Why wasn't he in his own bedroom? And why was he wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday? he thought.

Suddenly the previous day's events came flooding back and hit him like a ton of bricks. His brother, lying dead on his burned bed, Heather's ashes sitting lightly on his chest, Dawn's screaming…

It wasn't a dream. Jareth's mouth went dry and he couldn't breathe. Pushing the covers back, he quickly rose and ran to the bathroom to be sick in the toilet. After he was finished, he stood and poured out some water from the pitcher to rinse his mouth.

Leaning over the sink, shaking, he fought to get his breathing and pulse back under control. How had his life so suddenly turned into this hell? He tried to fight back the tears, but they came in a flood, making dark marks on the gray stone floor.

He thought of Dawn still sleeping, hopefully still sleeping anyways, in her bedroom, and his insides froze. How was he supposed to face her when she woke? He had promised her that he would take care of her little girl while she learned the somewhat dangerous task of transforming, and he had failed her.

Numbly, he wiped his face, then stood and walked to the bedroom door.

He may have failed her, and he knew she'd probably want to return home when she came to and remembered what happened, but he could at least be there for her when she woke. He could at least hold her and tell her he was sorry and offer her a shoulder to cry on, if she'd accept it. If she'd even look at him at that point.

He opened the bedroom door and walked out, then slowly closed it behind him.

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Dawn woke that morning well rested, and sat up in bed, stretching. She looked across the room to Heather's empty bed and reminded herself to scold the girl for disappearing in the castle like that without her. Now Dawn would have to find her way down to the kitchens on her own, and she wasn't sure she could find her way by herself.

Still, it was as good a day as any to try, right?

Pulling on her bunny slippers, and her bathrobe over her pajamas, Dawn walked out into the hallway, and set off in what she hoped was the right direction. The castle was eerily quiet this morning- everyone must be sleeping late, she thought.

As she turned right down another hallway, she all but ran into Jareth, coming around the corner just then. She was surprised he hadn't heard her. He looked up at her like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Good morning, Jareth. Care to join me for breakfast?"

He quickly shook his head, once. "No, but thank you." She nodded. "Dawn, would you come with me please?" He lightly placed his hand on her elbow and led her back down the hallway to the bedroom he had just come from. He opened the door, and gestured for her to proceed him, then closed the door behind him.

"Dawn, please sit," he said, and patted the bed beside him where he sat.

"Sure.." Dawn looked around the room, from the sleep-tossed blankets on the bed to the dirty clothes and wet towels on the floor of the adjoining bathroom. "Did you sleep in here last night? Why weren't you in your bedroom?"

Jareth grasped her hands between his and looked her in the eyes. "Dawn, what do you remember of yesterday?"

"It's a little hazy. Um.. Oh," she blushed slightly, "we'd had a fight about teaching Heather to transform.. Sorry for yelling at you." Jareth hung his head. "And.. You told me I was welcome to stay here if we lost Adair.." she finished softly. Jareth shook his head and as he brought his eyes up to meet hers again, she noticed they were very watery looking. He gripped her hands firmly in his as he spoke.  
"Dawn, that all happened the day before last. Yesterday Nicholas gave you a heavy draught of a sedative and it seems you've forgotten everything.." Dawn's eyebrows rose and she looked at him, confused. "You were upstairs keeping watch over Adair, and you called out for me. When I got there, Adair was having a seizure from his illness.." Dawn's eyes went wide with worry.

"Is he okay?" she asked quickly. Jareth bleakly looked up at her as he continued.

"The book said we had to get him warm- quickly- so we went off for towels to heat while Nicholas was heating water in the washroom. Heather saw the book and knew she could quickly warm him with fire," Dawn gasped, "and she tried to control the fire in the fireplace."

Her eyes were rimmed with tears as he squeezed her hand.

"We.. we lost Adair. He either died from the illness, or from the fire."

"Noo.." Dawn wailed. She bent over and put her forehead across Jareth's hand and cried. He pulled her back up and she clung to him in a hug, crying. He patted her hair and held her for a moment as she cried. Unbidden, a few tears slipped down Jareth's cheek, and he made himself stop- he had to be strong right now for Dawn.

"Towards the end," she finally sobbed out, "it was getting harder and harder for me to keep up hope, so I guess I sort of was prepared, but it still hurts. A lot.. I can't believe he's gone."

"Dawn, there's more.." he said quietly. She pulled back and looked at him.

"_More_?" She wiped her eyes. "What could be worse? What is it?" Jareth looked down at her hands as he spoke this time.

"I'm sorry, Dawn." Tears were falling down his cheek, making little rivers in the dirt and ash on his face, but he did nothing to stop the flow of them now. "She tried to save him, and I told you, I _promised_ you that I'd take care of her and I'm so sorry.." He looked up at her then and she just sat there, staring back at him.

"What do you mean? _Heather_?"

He nodded miserably.

"What's wrong with my daughter?!"

"She tried to save Adair, but the fire took her also. She tried to change into a bird to escape it, but it was too late.." Grief stricken, he buried his face in his hands, but Dawn could still make out his last sentence. "She's gone."

Dawn stood from the bed and stared at him, unbelieving. "No.. no, you're wrong. She can't be. She's just still in bed, sleeping, or she's in the kitchens with Nicholas, making French toast.."

Jareth looked up just in time to see her run out the bedroom door.

"Dawn, wait!" he shouted, and chased after her as she ran up the hallway and turned several corners and went up a flight of stairs. He turned the corner of the last hallway just in time to see her push open the door to Adair's room.

For a long moment she stood in the doorway and took in the devastation. Jareth walked up beside her and waited.

"It's horrible.." she finally whispered as she stepped forward into the room.

He nodded.

"I remember it now.." Dawn reached the bed and picked up the jar of ash that Nicholas had left there earlier. "God, she _screamed_.." Dawn's voice choked up as she clutched the jar. Jareth reached down for her other hand which she gratefully took.

"Where is Adair?" she asked, her eyes on the bed.

"I hate to say I'm not sure," he admitted. She turned and stared at him. "I think I was knocked out or something.. I just woke up this morning. Nicholas must have moved his body." She nodded sadly. "Here," he gave her hand a slight tug, "come with me and let's go find Nicholas." She shook her head and pulled her hand away from him, clutching the jar.

"Jareth, I want you to send me home."   
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Figuring that Dawn and Jareth would be asleep for hours more, and that Adair needed all of the rest he could get, Nicholas allowed himself to sleep in late that morning. When he finally woke and dressed, the entire castle was silent.

After a quick stop in the kitchens, he made his way to Adair's new room and quietly knocked on the door, hoping if the boy was sleeping, it wouldn't wake him.

"Come in," he answered.

Nicholas opened the door and was amazed to see the improvement Adair showed overnight. The bath the night before had certainly helped to remove most of the dull gray soot from his skin, but a bit of food and rest had returned a lot of color to his face. He was sitting up in bed, and the window behind him was open, so he must have wandered at least that far before giving into fatigue.

"Feeling better?" Nicholas asked, setting a tray of food on the nightstand next to the bed. Part of the renewed color to Adair's face was from crying, Nicholas now saw, but he kept quiet. It had been a rough night for him as well. He put a hand across Adair's forehead, feeling for any traces of the fever. Then he noticed Adair grimaced at him, and he laughed. "Just checking. You're fine."

Adair pointed out the window as he dove into the tray of food Nicholas brought. "I wanted some fresh air in here.. I miss not being strong enough to just transform, and fling myself out the window and fly away for a few hours." His face suddenly dropped as he remembered that his daughter would never be able to do that, would never know the joy of it.

"It's okay.. Everything reminds us of her," Nicholas consoled him. Adair nodded. "You must eat though," Nicholas urged him, and Adair ate, though slowly, as if the food tasted like dust in his mouth. They sat in silence for a moment.

"When can I see her?" Adair suddenly asked, looking up at Nicholas. "Dawn?"

Nicholas balked at replying. "Well.. I still need to check in on her and Jareth and see if they're awake yet, but then we need to gently break the news to her.."  
"And you don't think today is a good day." Adair finished flatly. Nicholas shook his head.

"We need to give her some time to get over her grief," he explained.  
"I think I should be there with her when she hears about Heather." Adair was already getting back some of his stubbornness. "She knows me, she trusts me. Besides, I am.. I _was_ Heather's father," he corrected himself softly.

"I know, I know.." Nicholas agreed, "but I don't think the basis of you two getting to know each other again should be founded on your grief over Heather. She's been alone for all of these years, Adair. Let her have a few hours to herself first."

"I want to see her," Adair repeated stubbornly. "She shouldn't be alone for this."

Nicholas bent his head and sighed.

"Alright, let me go see if they're awake yet. But I want that tray finished first."

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"You what?" Jareth asked, dumbfounded. "Dawn, you don't have to leave, you have family here. Listen-"

"No, _you_ listen, Jareth. I came here to try and get closer to you, to get to know a man I had become very good friends with. To see what my mother had experienced before she died."

She saw Jareth cringe slightly, as if the memory of her mother still pained him, but she did not care.

"My mother lived a good life. While she gave up the one chance at happiness she had, she did so because she knew it would be a better life for her daughter and granddaughter."

A tear ran down her cheek and she wiped it away.

"But my mother also lived a good life because she didn't have to see her daughter buried in the ground before her. No mother should _ever_ have to bury her child." Tears streamed down her face unnoticed now.  
"After I finally found Adair, I slowly lost him. Heather gave her life trying to save him. I.. I can't stay here anymore, Jareth." She gestured to the smoke-blackened room. "There's too many bad memories, too much sadness in this place," she looked into his eyes. "..In you."

Jareth's face fell as he took her meaning.

"Send me home," she told him quietly.

Jareth nodded. "I won't bother you again, then," he promised softly. Clutching her jar, she nodded once at him that she was ready.

"Goodbye, Jareth."

Still silent, Jareth formed a crystal on his fingertips, and watched her as she reached out for it, since he made no move to offer it to her. His mismatched eyes seemed dead as he looked back at her, they were so lifeless and empty. His pale face, once so beautiful in the ballroom of days past, was simply pallid under the dirt, ash, tears, and sorrow that marred his skin.

Dawn knew she would never forget that gaunt, hopeless face for as long as she lived.

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(-Sniff Sniff-) Please review.


	24. Too late

Nine months, people. _Nine_. You seriously need to bug me more if I keep going that long between updates…

Nah, life's gotten in the way recently, but hopefully I can continue updating at a more decent pace. But feel free to drop a review to poke me into motion if needs be…

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Chapter 24: Too late

Nicholas walked down the hallway, headed first towards Jareth's temporary room. Jareth was not in his bed as he'd expected, nor was Dawn in her old bedroom. They couldn't have woken up this soon, could they? Dawn should have been asleep for another six hours, easily. Perhaps he'd misjudged the sleeping potion measurements in his haste. Still…

He turned and headed for the opposite end of the castle. As he rounded a corner, he heard voices ahead, probably coming from Adair's old room. He grimaced. Old fool, he'd let himself sleep in too late. Well, he could perhaps still break the news to them gently. He'd wanted to find Jareth first, but it would have to be done now, he supposed. He turned the last corner of the hallway and saw Jareth coming out of Adair's room, alone.

"Where's Dawn?" Nicholas called down the hallway, then stopped in surprise as Jareth looked up at him. He looked like a different person, so dejected was his manner and appearance. "Jareth, what's wrong?" he asked, quickly bridging the distance between them.

"I sent her home," he mumbled, and walked past the chef.

"You _what_?"

"She wanted to go home.." Jareth explained, his voice emotionless. "She took Heather's remains with her, she said this place.. and myself.. is too full of bad memories. She's gone."

Nicholas closed his eyes in despair. How would he ever get Adair to see her now? Would she have still left if he'd just gotten here sooner and told her about him being alive? He spun around and caught Jareth by the shoulder.

"Jareth, we have to get her back- there's something I need to tell you both."

Jareth looked up at his friend. "I can't. She didn't want to see me again. I told her I would never bother her again. She's gone."

"She's _gone_?"

Both men turned to see Adair standing at the bend of the hallway.

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Dawn opened her eyes and found herself back in her bedroom, and she collapsed onto the bed. Clutching the jar containing the ashes of her daughter, she wept. She wept for all the things she would never be able to see her daughter do as she grew up. She wept for the father that her daughter never knew, and for the fact that she had selfishly never told her. She wept for her mother, Sarah, who had given up her chance at happiness so her daughter and granddaughter could be happy. She wept for Jareth. For the lost, abandoned look he had when she left.

She heard a small noise, she opened her eyes briefly to look at the crystal she'd previously been holding. It had landed on her pillow when she had crumpled to the bed, and it was now smoking slightly. No, not _smoking_, exactly; more like evaporating away, and it was making a small noise like carbonation being slowly let out of a sealed drink bottle. She watched, too speechless to move, until it all melted away, leaving behind only a small, glittery residue on her pillow which, too, quickly faded away.

For a moment she only stared at the spot, as if trying to comprehend that her last link to the Underground was broken. That there was no going back, no undoing what was done. _What's said is said_, she'd once seen written in a small red book. And even that was gone, along with her mother's old diary; she'd taken them with her to Jareth's castle, and had accidentally left them in her bedroom in her haste to leave.

She lay back down and wept for herself, truly and utterly alone in this cruel world.

------------------------

"Adair?"

Jareth's pallid skin blanched further at the sight of his brother for a moment, until he realized that Nicholas saw him too, and was not surprised by his appearance.

"Adair!" A tiny glimmer of hope lit up his face as he ran down the hallway to embrace the thin form of his brother. "You're alive? How can this be?"

With one hand steadying himself against the wall, Adair shook off his brother's attentions, nearly overbalancing himself in the process. "How could you have sent her home?" Adair demanded resentfully, ignoring his brother's questions. "It wasn't your choice! I was just coming to tell her about Heather, since I knew Nicholas wouldn't let me."

"I wanted to tell them both about you first," Nicholas interjected. "If I'd have known, I would have had you up here in an instant." He turned to Jareth. "Is there any way we can talk to her, or bring her back?" He shook his head.

"No, I told her I would not bother her again," he said softly. "It was her choice- she doesn't want to see any of us.. It's too painful for her."

Mentally and physically exhausted, Adair sagged against the wall. "She's gone.."

Jareth put an arm around him for support. "But you're alive!" he said, giving him a quick embrace.

"For all the good it does me now.." he shrugged off Jareth's help again. "Send me to her. If you won't go yourself, at least send me."

Jareth shook his head immediately. "She doesn't _want_ any of us there. Besides, you're too weak. Right now, you'd probably arrive there dead." He moved again to help Adair walk back to his room. "Come on, let's get you back to bed, I don't think you're strong enough to be walking around."

Adair shook his head. "I'll make it back myself, thank you," he countered, and started inching his way down the hallway, leaning against the wall for support.

"He's still going to try to go to her on his own, isn't he?" Jareth sighed, more to himself than Nicholas.  
"Eventually, yes, probably. One way or another." Nicholas looked at Jareth. "Stubbornness must run in the family.."

Jareth glared at him.

They both stared at Adair making his slow progress, and Jareth sighed.

"Well, I guess I'd better go now so you can help him back to his room."

Nicholas nodded.

"I'm going to have to do _something_ to stop him from going Above again.." Shaking his head, and looking extremely worried, Jareth left, and Nicholas quickly stepped forward to help Adair.

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Poor Dawn, I feel so bad for her. Poor Jareth, so dejected and alone. Poor..

Pssht, I feel bad for everybody.


	25. Normalcy

A longer chapter, this time, to make up for 24 being so short. More to come soon!

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Chapter 25: Normalcy

The following week went by very slowly for the entire castle. Adair avoided all contact possible with Jareth, and when it was unavoidable, he merely chose to ignore his brother. Jareth rarely spoke, even to Nicholas, and seemed to be slipping down into a deep despair, locking himself away in his room for days upon end, only emerging to tend to the necessary matters of running his kingdom, then would return to seclusion. Nicholas seemed to be shunted into the position of mediator and waiter, bringing food trays to the men since Adair was bedridden, and Jareth would refuse to come to the dining room.

------------------------

Nicholas labored up the steps towards Jareth's wing of the castle, carefully balancing a tray laden with assorted cheeses, fruits, and bread. A small bottle of goblinberry wine hung from its woven rope- it was one of Jareth's favorites, and Nicholas brought it hoping he would drink something- anything- because most of the beverages Jareth had been brought were being returned full. Most of the food was returned, too. Nicholas had been worried about Jareth, but now he was truly concerned.

Finally reaching the tops of the steps, Nicholas carefully balanced the tray and knocked on Jareth's bedchamber door. After a few moments, the door opened, and Jareth motioned him inside.

"I brought you a few of your favorites," Nicholas told him. He'd gone to stand by the window again, and was fiddling with something small in his hand. "Goblinberry wine, your favorite cheeses and fruits- a few blood oranges in season from the orchards." As Nicholas set the tray down on Jareth's nightstand, he noticed that the two framed pictures Jareth kept- one of Sarah, and one of Dawn and Heather- were nowhere to be seen.

"They were her favorites.." Jareth said softly from the other end of the room. Nicholas didn't have to ask to know that Jareth had been standing at his bedroom windows at each dusk and dawn, watching the sun rise and set over the labyrinth.  
"I know," Nicholas replied softly. "You know, she wouldn't have wanted to see you like this."

Jareth remained silent for a long moment. "I'm so worried about him," he finally admitted softly. Nicholas knew how terribly worried he truly was for him to admit it.

After a few moments, he finally turned and slowly walked to the table where Nicholas had placed the tray of food. Brow furrowed, he fumbled with the item in his hands for a moment longer, then placed it on the small table in front of him- Nicholas saw it was a crystal ball- and sat down, reaching for one of the oranges.

"Thank you, Nicholas," Jareth said absentmindedly, then, brow furrowed, he returned to his intense scrutiny of the smooth, bubble-like orb.

Nodding once, Nicholas turned and walked to the door to leave. When he reached for the handle to close it behind him, Jareth was peeling and eating the orange, but seemed oblivious to all but that crystal.

------------------------

As Nicholas had demanded Adair stay bedridden to build his reserves of strength and magic, time seemed to be suspended for him, and he found himself quickly becoming restless. If he didn't keep busy, his mind wandered back to that horrid day, to Heather… So he made himself stay busy. Unfortunately, the only activity he was really allowed to do was read. So read he did. He plagued Nicholas with requests for books the first few days, anything to keep his mind otherwise occupied, and Nicholas would bring him books by the stackfull from the library nearly every day.

At first, he was content to read through whatever Nicholas happened to bring him, but soon he began to request specific ones, or books on certain subjects. Nicholas would grant him his unusual requirements, until one day Adair's requests varied greatly from his normal selection of historical and literary works.

Sitting on the bed next to him, Nicholas eyed the lengthy list of books Adair had requested for that day. In the seemingly random list, tucked away at the bottom under _Rare and Unusual Bird Species_, was _Schlaughmann's Booke of Alements. _Nicholas raised an eyebrow at Adair, who was trying to look innocent as he obediently ate the tray of food Nicholas had brought him.

Nicholas sighed. "Adair, why do you want this for?" he asked, and tapped the list in front of him.

"What? _The Third Millennia History of the Underground_?" he asked, and took another large bite of his sandwich.

Nicholas gave him a look that plainly said _you-know-what-book-I'm-talking-about_. It was abundantly clear to Nicholas every morning when he brought Adair his breakfast that he was still mourning the loss of Heather. His face would still have those red blotches when he woke, and his demeanor, which was quiet in the morning but quickly became almost jovial, seemed forced. Though he'd only gotten to know her for a short time, Nicholas knew Adair would never get over her loss.

"It's not going to help anything by reading it," he told Adair quietly. "Why don't you let it go?" he asked softly.

At first Adair only clenched his jaw and stared down at the bowl of soup on his tray. He remained silent for a while, but Nicholas saw his knuckles turning white as he squeezed the metal spoon in his fist.

"I want to know what she was thinking, trying to pull a stunt like that!" Adair finally blurted out.

Nicholas was a little shocked; was he _angry_ at Heather? Adair looked up at him.

"I can't help it! She should have gone back to her room like Dawn told her to. She shouldn't have stayed, she should still be here," the later half of the sentence came out in broken sobs. "_She should have left me_."

Nicholas put an arm around Adair's shoulders and pulled him closer. "There's _nothing_ that could have been done, Adair, so you musn't feel guilty about what happened. She saved you because she loved you." He reached across to the younger man's nightstand and picked up the red feather that rested there. "You ought to be living for her now."

Adair stared at the feather- it looked about half as long as it had been a week ago (it kept smoldering down, and he'd already had to douse it in his cup of water twice this week)- and considered Nicholas' words.

Nicholas nodded once, then rose to go. As he swept past the mirror on the wall- the only thing from the old bedroom Adair wanted to salvage- he swore he saw a glimmer of white and green, but when he looked, he only saw the reflection of the room around him.

He shook his head, then quickly left to go get Adair's long list of books while he finished his meal.

------------------------

The next week seemed to go by in a blur for Nicholas. It seemed that he was either bringing food trays to Jareth and Adair, returning to the kitchens with empty trays to be cleared, making trips to the library for Adair, or generally taking care of the other tasks that were his duty, such as seeing to the horses in the stable. Life was slowly returning to normal, or so it seemed.

Every time Nicholas would go to visit Jareth, he would be staring at one of those crystals of his. One time he did stop to ask how Adair was, and when Nicholas told him that he was doing well, but that he was reading the medical book Heather had found, Jareth's eyes went wide- with worry, Nicholas wondered?- then he went back to staring at that damned crystal of his.

A few days later, when Nicholas brought Jareth's evening tray up to him, his knock at the door went unanswered. He pushed the door open and saw Jareth sitting on his bed, a crystal ball clasped firmly in one hand, his crescent pendant in the other, concentrating with what had to be tremendous will. For a moment, Nicholas stood and watched him; Jareth's hands shook a little, but otherwise nothing happened. Then all of a sudden, Jareth seemed to wilt slightly, and he let both items drop onto the bed before him. The look of worry that had been haunting him for the past week was suddenly lifted, as if a tremendous weight had just been taken off his shoulders, though the shadow of his grief still showed through his eyes. He looked up and noticed Nicholas for the first time.

"Come in, Nicholas! I must not have heard you knock," he said, and quickly crossed the room to take the tray from him. "Thank you," he said, and quickly started eating as soon as he sat down on the bed.

Nicholas seemed shocked for a moment- this was as close to the old Jareth as Nicholas had seen him yet, and he wondered what was going on.

Jareth saw him staring at him. "Is everything okay?" he asked between mouthfuls of roast.

"Yes," Nicholas stumbled. "I.. I was going to ask you the same."

"Oh, I'm fine," and waved a hand at the items on the bed, "this was just a little something.." He paused, and seemed to switch thoughts. "How is Adair doing?" he asked, suddenly serious.

Nicholas' brows scrunched together slightly. "He's been fine. He's still reading that medical book, and still won't let me return it to the library. And something else about birds too.. but he's fine."

"Good," Jareth replied, and dug into his roast again.

------------------------

Nicholas was still pondering his conversation with Jareth when he got to Adair's room with his evening tray. He had just reached for the handle when the door was yanked open, and Adair rushed him inside, and anxiously took the tray from him.

"What is it with you lot today?" Nicholas asked. "And you're not supposed to be out of bed! Lay back down, Adair!"

"I'm fine," he scoffed. "I've been in bed for two weeks!"

"Yes, and you're up a full week before I'd planned to even let you walk as near as the library on your own!" Nicholas countered. Was the boy crazy, trying to put himself into a relapse?

Adair grabbed both of the older man's shoulders and stared into his eyes. "I need to talk to Jareth," he said, then quickly walked back over to the bed and grabbed two books off of the nightstand.

For a moment Nicholas could only stare at him, mouth agape. The earnestness in Adair's eyes, however, told him that this subject would not be dropped lightly. Hoping the pair would maybe put aside their differences and apologize, Nicholas cocked his head at Adair.

"If I take you up to him, will you promise to get back in bed?" Adair nodded quickly. "And _stay_ there?"

"Yes, whatever you want, I just need to talk to him as soon as possible. _Now_."

Sighing, Nicholas finally agreed, and helped him up to Jareth's room at the other end of the castle. He made Adair wait in the hallway while knocked on the door, then went inside to talk to Jareth.

"Did he say what he wanted?" Jareth asked Nicholas, not at all sure that he wanted to go through another round of arguments with his brother. Nicholas shook his head.  
"He just said it was very important that he speak to you. Shall I bring him in?"

Fingering the pendant that hung around his neck, Jareth paced the floor for a moment, then finally nodded. "Very well."

Nicholas helped Adair, along with his two thick books, into Jareth's bedroom, and sat him down on the bed so he wouldn't have to drain his energy standing. Not wanting to get in the way of a truce between the two, Nicholas then excused himself. "I'll be in the hallway if you need me," and closed the door behind him.

"You needed to speak with me?" Jareth inquired politely.

Adair nodded, already flipping through his books. "I've figured it out, Jareth!" He waved him closer to the bed so he could see what he was pointing to in the texts. His excitement was catching, Jareth thought, as he stepped over to see what his younger brother was pointing to.

"What exactly have you figured out?" he asked as he looked over a black and white woodblocked image of a bird on one page.  
"I figured out why Heather was so damaged by the fire, and I wasn't!" he exclaimed almost joyfully, and Jareth's face fell. This was not at all what he thought they would be discussing. Sighing, he walked over by the large windows.

"Adair, _no_." he started, truly not wanting to start this discussion, not when he was finally able to get through the day without having his eyes water every time he thought of her. Adair followed him to the window.

"No, Jareth, you _have_ to listen," His brother responded, and tugged urgently at Jareth's sleeve. "She wasn't consumed by the fire, she was-"

"NO, Adair!" Jareth bellowed, startling them both. Nicholas even heard that command outside the door and cringed, knowing that, already, things weren't going well inside. "She is _gone_. Nothing we can do can change that. I've grieved enough these past few weeks, I don't need you coming in here giving me details on how she died! I already saw both of you dea-" he stopped abruptly and looked down at his feet as he turned away to face the window.

"You already saw both of us dead," Adair quietly finished for him. Jareth nodded. In that one sentence, Adair suddenly realized how hard it must have been for Jareth that day- to lose his brother and his niece in one day, and then to realize that he would lose Dawn as well.

"But Jareth, I can sa-"

"NO!" That awful bellow was followed by Jareth slamming his fists onto the windowsill. The noise echoed in the silent room. "Now go, please."

Adair stood, picked up his books and turned to leave, but then stopped. "At least send me back to Dawn once- to say goodbye. All I want is five minutes with her."

Jareth shook his head. "I told her I would not bother her again-"

"But she's hurt and mourning. She needs to be surrounded by familiar things, yes, but she shouldn't be alone! She should-"

He finally straightened and turned to face Adair, his voice raising in volume as he continued speaking as if Adair had not interrupted him. "And to keep you from sneaking Above again, I've put a lock on the magic Underground. You are free to go where you choose in the kingdom once Nicholas deems you fit enough, but you cannot go Aboveground. From now on, only the one wearing the Royal necklace can use a crystal to go," he said, and patted the crescent pendant he wore against his chest. He knew this would set a double-guard against Adair because he was not powerful enough to create a magic crystal without Jareth's help, or the help of his Royal pendant.

Adair's face flashed a series of emotions- anger, denial, betrayal- but he knew he couldn't give up. "But I think I can sa-"

"GO!" Jareth interrupted him one last time. Adair knew in that tone, the sentence was command, not a request.

------------------------

Nicholas jumped back as the door suddenly flew open. Adair, clutching his books to his chest, stalked out of the room, muttering a constant line of words. Nicholas could only make out a few of them; _Heather_, _I must_,_ feather_, and _Dawn_, trailed by a long line of obscenities.

While Adair was still walking a little off balance, Nicholas chose to simply follow along behind him and be prepared to catch him if he fell. He tried to ask what happened, but Adair simply shook his head and continued his constant tirade.

When they eventually they reached Adair's new room, he put the books down on the nightstand, got into bed, pulled the covers up to his shoulder, then told Nicholas he did not wish to discuss it.

Dumbfounded, Nicholas left him for the night, and tried to talk to Jareth next. He also did not want to talk, so Nicholas gave it up for the moment, and also went to bed.

------------------------

Tired of being the mediator for the pair, and in an attempt to get Jareth and Adair to apologize to each other, the next day Nicholas declared that each man would have to come down to the dining room to eat his meals; he would no longer be running trays up to them. Adair was strong enough he could walk around when he pleased, so Nicholas was confident that he would be okay in that aspect. Adair only held out one day- Nicholas thought partly because he was still so bored with being stuck in bed, and partly because he needed food to keep gaining his strength back- but Jareth did not make an appearance for several days. Nicholas had been setting a plate for him at every meal, every day, but he did not show.

Finally on the fifth day, Nicholas and Adair were eating their evening meal, when Jareth suddenly strode into the room, sat down at his place, and started eating. Things were tense until Jareth looked up and quietly asked Adair to pass the salt down to him, then the trio seemed to settle into a slightly more comfortable silence. As the week wore on, Jareth and Adair slowly started talking to each other more and more, until at the end of the week, it amazingly seemed as if things were nearly back to normal between them. Nicholas never did figure out what was discussed in Jareth's room earlier that week, and neither man wanted to bring up the subject again.

As he settled down for bed that night, Nicholas felt as if things were finally healed between the brothers.

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Remember boys and girls, reviews make me post faster! Hope everyone's enjoying it so far..


	26. Alone

Hello again everyone! Whew, it's been a while since I've updated huh? My apologies for that- in the past year I left my cheating, abusive husband, moved over 700+ miles away to be back by my family (lived with my mom for a few months), moved into an apartment, divorced said husband, moved into a great little house, and now I hope I'm set for a while.

I do have a few chapters already written (I'm working on the story more regularly now too), so updates should be much more frequent now. Keep in mind that reviews keep me going and if there is lots of demand for another chapter, they're usually posted faster. (I just don't feel the urge to work on a story if I feel that no one is really reading it, you know?)

I hope everyone is enjoying TRB so far. Andrea

**********

Chapter 26: Alone

That night, Jareth stood before the bureau in his bedroom. He'd pulled off the crescent necklace he wore to unlock it, and now the bottom drawer was hanging open. An empty wooden box and his necklace both sat atop the dresser, and he stood looking at a crystal ball in his hand.

It was an empty crystal- he had not yet asked it to show him anything- but he was contemplating using it to see how Dawn was doing. His conscience was what was currently stopping him. He had promised he would leave her alone, but this wasn't exactly knocking on her front door, right? He tried to tell himself that, but he also didn't like the idea of butting in on her privacy.

He stood there, undecided, for several minutes, then sighed, and put the crystal away in the wooden box, unused. He closed the drawer, locked the bureau up again, and put his pendant back on over his head. Sighing, he slowly undressed, pulled on a pair of silk sleeping pants, lay down in bed, then finally pulled the plush covers up and went to sleep.

*****

Adair woke sometime later that night. Laying still in bed, he could hear that the entire castle was still- everyone was sleeping. Three weeks in bed gathering his strength was enough; tonight's the night, he thought. He had bid his time long enough, and Jareth was apparently gullible to believe that he'd forgotten about Heather. Well, he may not be able to create a crystal to get Aboveground on his own, and he may not be able to get Above without Jareth's necklace, but when you add one plus one..

He pushed back the covers and rose from the bed. He reached for the red feather from the nightstand, and tucked it into the waistband of his glitter-weed fiber sleep pants for safekeeping; he'd need it later. Opening the door, then slowly closing it behind him, he quietly snuck down the twisted hallways towards Jareth's bedchamber.

He got to the door, and gently turned the knob so it wouldn't make any noise. Slipping inside, he silently shut it behind him. Heart racing, he crossed the room to Jareth's large four-post bed, and leaned over his sleeping brother's form. His chest was rising and falling slowly yet rhythmically under the covers; he was fast asleep. Gently, and excruciatingly slowly, Adair unfastened the cord holding the pendant around Jareth's neck and lifted up both ends of the cord in one hand. Gently grabbing the edges of the pendant with his other hand, Adair slowly lifted it off of Jareth's chest. Clutching it to his chest, Adair slowly backed up away from the bed.

Jareth hadn't even moved!

Tiptoeing over to the bureau where Adair knew Jareth kept a crystal (in fact, the very one he had stolen previously to go Above years ago when all of this had started- he was the reason it was now locked away), he carefully inserted the pendant, and twisted it, triggering the locking mechanism. Knowing he would need it later, he quickly put the pendant over his head for safekeeping. Bending over, he started to slide out the little drawer he knew held the boxed crystal, until it let out a loud squeak, and he paused.

Looking over his shoulder, he watched, helpless, as Jareth rolled over in his sleep. Holding his breath, for fear that even that small noise may wake his brother, Adair waited until Jareth stopped stirring, and his breathing returned to normal.

Satisfied that Jareth was sleeping deeply again, Adair slowly pulled the little drawer open the rest of the way, grabbed the box, slid it open, and plucked out the crystal within- the pearl at the center of the oyster. He marveled again at the feel of it in his hand- holding one of these crystals had always given him a slight tingly feeling, had always made him feel _balanced_. A small sigh escaped his lips.

He turned to head towards the door again but paused as every hair on his body suddenly stood on end. Taking a quick look around, he saw that Jareth had woken, and though he had not moved beneath the covers, his mismatched eyes were staring directly at him.

*****

Nicholas woke suddenly. He thought perhaps a noise had woken him- a goblin outside maybe? He heard nothing now..

He stole a glance at the window and saw that it was full dark out- hours away from dawn still. Straining his ears one more time, he decided that he'd imagined it, and quickly lay down, eager to get back to sleep.

He'd barely closed his eyes when he heard a tremendous crash from upstairs.

*****

For a second that seemed to stretch out into eternity, neither man moved. Jareth's eyes quickly took everything in: his brother standing half-dressed in his bedroom, the open bureau drawer, the crystal clutched in Adair's hand, and lastly, the pendant hung around his neck. Jareth didn't even need to look down to confirm that his pendant was gone- he was now aware of the missing weight.

His eyes narrowed sharply, and in that look, Adair was reminded why so many people were terrified of his brother, both the ruler and the man.

"Adair, what are you doing?" Jareth asked politely, as if he were merely inquiring about the weather.

Adair replied softly, knowing that no answer would please him. "I am going," he replied simply. "I have to help her."

And then that eternity compressed back down into a second.

The covers on the bed seemed to explode as Jareth threw them aside and started across the room towards Adair. Knowing Jareth was blocking his escape route, Adair quickly moved towards the only other exit- the giant windows set along the far wall. While a split second behind, Adair was already closer to his goal; he grabbed the feather from the waistband of his sleep pants with his free hand, waved a hand at the window to magic them open, and jumped towards the opening space.

"_NO!_" Jareth shouted. If Adair managed to get Above, the return of the magic withdrawals would certainly kill him. In a moment of blind panic, Jareth brandished his hand at the giant window to close again, and as soon as he did, he realized it could prove to be a fatal mistake for his brother.

Adair turned his attention away from Jareth just in time to see the window slam back shut directly in front of him. Moving too quickly to stop, Adair instinctively curled his arms up around his face, and dove through the glass headfirst. Though it shattered on impact with a deafening crash, his shoulder hit the frame of the window with a sickening noise. Jareth thought he heard something snap.

And then Adair disappeared from sight.

*****

Nicholas bolted upright in bed, and immediately started running upstairs before he even had a moment to wonder what could be the matter. He reached Jareth's bedroom door in what had to be record time, and burst into the room.

"Jareth, what was that?" he asked, breathless, taking in the shards of glass across the floor at the far end of the room. Jareth turned from where he stood, looking out the window.

"Adair. He's gone."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" Only now the fact registered that Adair hadn't come running in reaction to the noise. "Above?"

Jareth nodded.

"But you put a lock on the magic!"

Jareth turned back to him, suddenly angry. "He stole the pendant right off of my damned neck!"

When Nicholas stared at him, uncomprehending, Jareth looked him in the eyes.

"I can make all the crystals I desire, but because of the lock, without my necklace, I can not go Above. If he's hurt, or suffers from Withdrawals again, I cannot help him."

And then what Jareth said next made Nicholas' heart freeze.

"The doors Above are shut. He's all alone."

*****


	27. Trying to restore the broken

Now settle down, my cheeky monkeys. (Isn't that what Craig Ferguson calls his audience on his late night show?)

Ehm. Anyways.

Is the suspense killing you yet? Hmm? Mwah hah hah..

Alright, I have another shiny chapter for you. Reviews make me post faster. J

**********

Chapter 27: Trying to Restore the Broken

The day Above had not been a sunny one. Even now, as night fell, full, threatening gray clouds still hung in the sky, and the people in the neighborhood had used them as an excuse to stay inside all that day. No one was outside walking the dog, or returning home from some important errand, so no one saw the black crow suddenly appear in the dark sky.

Adair's body exploded in pain as he crossed Above. The necklace had luckily transformed along with him- he supposed it worked the way your clothing changed too- and he'd managed to grab the crystal between his feet as he transformed, so he had not lost that, but the weight was more than his small feathered body could handle. His shoulder felt like it was on fire, and with one useless wing he could not keep himself airborne. He flapped his other wing, helpless, as he fell to the ground. He was able to cushion his fall slightly by aiming towards some bushes as he plummeted. He fell hard, and the impact jarred the crystal loose from his grip. It rolled away a few feet.

Disoriented, he quickly transformed back to his Fae form and lay in the bush, gasping for breath. Though he was nearly well again, he could immediately feel the effects of the lack of magic. His brother's pendant was probably all that was keeping him conscious at the moment.

He'd crossed over, not knowing where exactly he had to go, but had just concentrated with all of his might on finding Dawn. He knew he was in someone's back yard- he could only hope he was close to the right one; he'd never be able to walk even a few blocks to try and find her. Besides, what would the neighbors think if a half naked, unruly-looking man with a broken shoulder suddenly appeared on their doorstep?

Slowly, he rolled out of the bush and fell with a soft thump to the ground. He stifled a groan of pain, reached for the crystal, and pulled himself to sit up against the door. He took another moment or two to catch his breath- he felt like he had just run a marathon, but knew it was due to the effects of the lack of magic here- and reached up until he felt a doorknob. He twisted it and was surprised when the door suddenly swung open with no resistance. He fell backwards on the floor in a heap, then jumped as the door slammed into the wall behind it with a loud crash.

"Hello? Who's there?" he heard a voice upstairs demand. As he lay on the floor, he could see spots forming in front of his eyes, and knew he would pass out soon. The last thought he remembered was that if he was at the wrong house, he was going to have a lot of explaining to do…

*****

Jareth stood, barefoot, in the middle of his room, surrounded by a field of shards of broken glass which twinkled on the cold stone floor like starlight. His feet were cut and lightly bleeding, but he paid no notice. He just stood, staring out the window Adair had so unceremoniously exited.

Rather than stand there uselessly, Nicholas excused himself and returned to Jareth's room bearing a broom, dustpan, and some assorted bandages and things.

"Come on, come sit down," he said, ushering Jareth to sit on his bed. As Nicholas saw to the man's feet, he could not help but notice how pale and dejected he looked.

"I'm sure Adair will be fine," Nicholas offered in his most assuring tone. Jareth just sat, looking at the floor, his head tilted slightly to one side. Knowing he would not be able to coax much from him, Nicholas finished bandaging up his feet and bid him return to bed. Nicholas shook out the few plush floor rugs Jareth kept, and swept up the remaining glass.

"We'll fix this in the morning," he told Jareth, as he swept the glass into a pile in front of the large bay window. Of course, really Jareth would have to fix it- Nicholas didn't have enough innate magic to help beyond laying the larger glass shards out in the shape of the window while Jareth melded them back together. Until they could gather and rejoin the all of the shards that had fallen outside, they would have to deal with a thinner, imperfect pane of glass, or they would have to feed it more glass-quality sand, something they would have to import from the far reaches of the kingdom, and it was expensive. Either way, having a broken window for a night would not harm anything- it was not uncommon to leave the windows open on warmer nights.

Sighing, Nicholas turned from the window.

"What's this?" he asked, and bent down to retrieve something by his foot. Finally showing some interest, Jareth looked in his direction, then immediately rushed across the room to where he stood when he saw what it was. "Where did you get that?" Jareth demanded, and plucked the short, half-charred red feather from Nicholas' hand.

"It was just on the floor," Nicholas replied, puzzled. "Wasn't it in Adair's room last? I thought I'd left it with him."

Jareth nodded. "It was. He had it tucked into his waistband when he stole.." Jareth trailed off as Adair's words came back to him.

No, Jareth, you have to listen, Adair had told him, but Jareth hadn't been. She wasn't consumed by the fire, she was- and Jareth had interrupted him again, to yell. But I think I can sa-

What did Adair think he could do? Say what had killed her? Why had he interrupted him? He couldn't have heard him out for one more minute? He'd had a book with him too- he'd been trying to show him some image of a bird. What was the connection?

Jareth looked back up at Nicholas as he twirled the feather between his fingers.

"I'm not sure what he was doing with it, but I have no doubt, this feather was important. He hadn't meant to leave it here."

*****

Adair was woken by someone repeatedly hitting his cheek, and none too gently. "Wake up," the voice said.

"Owww…" he mumbled slightly, trying to push the hand away. He started to open his eyes, but was blinded by the bright light shining in the room. He snapped his eyes shut, cursing under his breath as he brought a hand up to shield them. Cripes, he'd been here all night? No, time was different Above. He'd forgotten. Still, how long had he been out?

"Oh, hold on," the voice said, and Adair heard feet quickly padding across the carpeted floor, then the slither of the curtains being shut. The darkness was an immediate relief. He opened his eyes again and let them adjust to the darkness. The feet padded back to him from across the room, and he felt his heart leap when the person's face came into view.

"Dawn!" he exclaimed, and struggled to sit up to give her a fierce, one-armed hug. He immediately felt dizzy, like he had a massive hangover. When he pulled away he could see that she was far from the old Dawn he knew- her hair, normally perfectly plaited in a braid, was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and while you would never usually know that she wore makeup, you could tell she had given up on her appearances. Even her clothes looked wrinkly, as if she'd slept in them.

"You're awake," she said quietly, and her voice broke on the last word. He could now see that she had tears in her eyes. "When I saw you lying on the floor I thought I'd either lost my mind, or you'd come back to haunt me as a ghost." She smiled slightly. "But ghosts don't weigh as much as you," and he now realized she'd drug him all the way from the back kitchen door to the couch in the living room. Quite a feat. "How are you here?" she asked. He knew she meant here, as in alive, not necessarily here, as in, sitting in my living room.

"I'm still not exactly sure myself, I think one of the past queens of the labyrinth brought me back.. It's a long story, I'll have to fill you in some other time." With his vision already starting to swim, he brought his good hand to his waistline for the feather, but grasped empty air instead. He felt his careful planning go down the drain, and breathing hard, he felt panic start to creep into his system. He must have dropped the feather in Jareth's room before he crashed through the window and changed. The magic was affecting him much faster than he thought it would. This was bad.

"What's wrong?" Dawn asked, concerned. She put one hand on his and could feel him trembling lightly.

"Besides my arm being possibly broken, I need to go soon," he said. "Look, to keep his word that he'd never bother you again, Jareth put a lock on the magic Underground so I couldn't steal one of his crystals and escape." Dawn eyed him as if to ask what he was currently doing here.

"So I had to steal his crystal and his necklace to get here. I'm nearly back to full health but the lack of magic here is causing some bad effects, I could go into Withdrawals again. This is going to be painful, but you must listen to me." He grabbed both of her hands in his good one.

"Dawn, I think I know why Heather was burned by the fire, and I wasn't." Dawn immediately started to struggle against him, wanting to pull away.

"No, Adair, it's been too painful." She said as a tear ran down her cheek. He held tight to her hand and continued.

"Dawn, I don't have much time," he said, and indeed, she could feel his grip getting weaker. "I don't think the fire consumed her, I think she became the fire." Dawn clearly looked confused, so he continued.

"Jareth was teaching her to transform, right?" She nodded. "Well, we never did find out what type of bird she was trying to turn into." Dawn nodded that she understood. "But what does that have to do with anything?" she asked.

"There was a feather left on the bed- the last piece left of her that the fire hadn't destroyed- and I accidentally left it in my rush to escape from Jareth. But it was long, and deep red, with black tickings. While I was forced to stay in bed and recuperate, I looked through nearly every book in our library. There were countless volumes on birds, both from Above and Underground."

Dawn nodded.

"I never found what type of bird that feather belonged to."

Dawn nodded slowly, perhaps still not sure where this was leading. Adair reminded himself that she's lived her life in a world mostly devoid of magic.

"I think she was becoming a phoenix."

"But they don't exist, how could she turn into one?" Dawn asked.

"Ah, they don't exist in our worlds- but we have unicorns, while you have none here. We ourselves are very different creatures, human and Fae. Who's to say that they don't exist in another world? Perhaps their existence, even if it's only in the imagination of a young girl, is enough?"

Dawn nodded, as if she'd grant him that theory.

"But she knew that you and Jareth had to get my temperature raised, and quickly. A phoenix dies and is reborn through the ashes of a fire. If she was able to transform like that, what better way was there to get the room hot, and quickly?"

"She had thrown that medical book out into the hallway before she.." Dawn broke off. It was still a very hard subject to talk about. "Perhaps she hadn't wanted it damaged."

Adair nodded. "But I think she transformed, let the flames start to catch the bed on fire, then planned to come back out of the ashes. She would have gotten through the fire unharmed."

"Ok, so maybe this could be true," Dawn acknowledged, "What can we do now?"

"I believe we need to burn the remaining feather- reunite it with the ashes in your jar. I think once that happens, once everything is joined and destroyed as the fire initially would have done, the phoenix can be reborn."

Dawn stared at him a moment, trying to let it all sink in, he thought. After what felt like an eternity to Adair, she finally nodded to show that she believed him, at least for now.

"So, can you magic your feather to us?" She asked, hopeful. Adair shook his head slowly.

"Dawn, I need you to come to me," he said seriously, and he formed a second crystal, then took one of her hands and dropped the crystal into it. He could immediately feel how much weaker that bit of magic left him. He didn't know how Jareth did it all the time.

"No, I don't want that thing!" she exclaimed, and thrust it back at him.

"Dawn, I can't come back here! If I even make it back Underground alive, Jareth's going to be furious. He'll likely report me to the High Elders to be stripped of my magic, possibly even banished, for disobeying him twice. It's probably too late for me, but if you want to save your daughter, our daughter, you're going to have to take it! I've come this far, but now it's up to you."

He opened her hand and closed her fingers around the crystal. "Hold that dearly, her life may depend on it," he told her.

Dawn looked down at the crystal in her hand, and as tears fell down her cheek, she nodded and clasped it firmly.

"Now, whenever you're ready, just ask the crystal to take you to the castle. If I'm not there, go to Jareth or Nicholas, I'm sure one of them will have the feather. Burn it- toss it in a fireplace, just do it somehow. Put the rest of the ashes with it, and I think, I hope, she'll come back."

Dawn nodded.

He leaned towards her, brought his good hand up to her cheek in a caress and kissed her. "I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but I must go."

Dawn nodded and helped him stand. Adair was barely able to walk to the back door; Dawn ended up supporting him most of the way there.

"Just help me sit down," he said. "I can't fly away with a broken wing, I'll just have to cross over here." He made sure the pendant was secure around his neck, and grasped the first crystal in his hand.

"Dawn, please come back to me," he begged her, then kissed her on the cheek. She watched as the dark haired, handsome man on her back step was replaced by a broken-winged black crow. After trying to secure the proportionately huge crystal in its grasp, the crow suddenly disappeared in a shower of fine glitter.

Dawn sat on the step for a moment longer, and looked at the crystal in her hand. Unlike before, when she had returned home and the last crystal had disappeared in a pouf of glitter, she did not feel alone.

*****

Adair materialized in the night sky high above the ground; the burst of magic that always accompanied crossing over glimmered around him like a blacksmith's sparks. He saw the dark outlines of the treetops and realized his mistake the instant he reappeared; he had not thought ahead to visualize reemerging safely near the ground somewhere. As weak as he felt though, he knew he wouldn't have been able to concentrate to that extent. He could barely keep from passing out as is.

His arm and shoulder exploded in pain as he struggled in vain to fly for a few moments. He was simply too heavy, and his wing was too damaged to support him. Giving up what he knew was a useless battle, he let the crystal drop, knowing that it would survive the fall unharmed; besides, it had already served its use. Instead of wasting energy flapping uselessly, Adair held both wings out, grimacing as the wind caught his feathers and wrenched his broken wing painfully back. It was worth the pain though; they offered just enough drag to carry him closer to the ground at a slightly more controllable pace.

A stray thought crossed Adair's mind as he fell. He had to change back to his Fae form before he landed. If anything went wrong, perhaps he was knocked unconscious by a tree branch or landed wrong, and he died in his crow form, Jareth's necklace would be stuck with him in his transformed state. He would have to transform before anything could happen; he had to be certain Jareth could get his pendant back, it was just too important. More important than his own safety. He had seen the castle, far off in the distance, but knew he was still over Jareth's land. No matter what, someone- goblin, Fae, or otherwise- would eventually find him, the crystal, and Jareth's necklace.

Making up his mind, he transformed mid-air, clutching the pendant with his good hand to be sure nothing would happen to it as he fell. Whether he lived or died in the next few minutes, he had successfully gotten to Dawn, given her a crystal, and told her what she needed to do. He was certain that Heather could be saved. As the earth rushed towards him at a terrifying speed, Adair felt unusually calm and at peace. If it was his time to die, so be it. He closed his eyes as the first of the tree branches reached him. As he fell, a large branch struck him across the back of the skull, and as he felt his grip on the pendant loosen, he gratefully let the blackness envelop him, swallowing the pain along with his consciousness.

*****


	28. Still Missing

I killed him. Yup. Sure did. *Evil grin*

Or did I? *another evil grin*

Guess you'll have to keep reading to find out, huh?

Remember, reviews make me post faster. ;)

**********

Chapter 28: Still Missing

Jareth slept fitfully, and woke before sunrise the next morning. After a quick check of Adair's room, Jareth walked the entire castle, searching for his brother. By the time he reached the kitchens, Nicholas could see he was frantic.

"What's taking him so long? He's been gone all night!"

Nicholas shrugged. "Perhaps she needed more persuading to return," he offered.

"No," Jareth paced, "he wouldn't have enough time to stay. The magic will drain him quickly, dangerously fast if he has to create a crystal for assistance in anything."

Nicholas had no other theories to offer, so he remained silent while Jareth paced.

*****

Above, it was late evening before Dawn worked up the nerve to pick up the crystal Adair had given her.

Was she getting her hopes up for nothing? She trusted Adair, but she didn't come from a magical world like his- maybe he was taking too much for granted. Still, what if it was, somehow, true? Wouldn't having her little girl back be worth the risk of more heartache?

She sighed, and clutching the jar of ashes to her chest, picked up the crystal from the kitchen table where she'd set it earlier. Didn't she have to say something to it to get it to work? She thought so- though Adair hadn't when he had left. Unless it worked like a boomerang- you only had to throw it, then it came back on its own.

Adair could have at least given her _some_ decent instructions with the thing, Dawn thought. Not everyone used them on a daily basis.

She sighed, closed her eyes, and concentrated on picturing the sturdy stone walls of the castle. "Take me to Jareth," she told the crystal.

*****

Nicholas knew better than to bother preparing a meal when Jareth was wound up like he was. Still, around sunrise the chef found himself walking to Jareth's room to see if he wanted anything. He knocked on the heavy wooden door, then heard Jareth grant him permission to enter.

He sat cross-legged on the bed, face in his hands, as he stared down at the floor. His body was wire tight with anxiety. "I have still not heard or seen any sign of Adair."

Nicholas nodded. Because of his own slight sense of magic, he'd have known the moment the man stepped foot in the castle. Being blood related, and more powerful magically, Jareth would be able to sense his presence from a somewhat greater distance. But as Jareth said, the doors Above were closed; Adair was on his own.

Until just now, Nicholas had barely thought about the possible long term consequences of the brothers' actions, but a sudden thought froze him to the core. If something happened to Adair, and Jareth's royal pendant was left Aboveworld, the king would not be able to get Above to procure wished away children. Without the children to bolster the Fae's numbers, the pair of brothers may have accidentally condemned their entire people to a slow extinction over the coming centuries. Nicholas quickly decided to keep this revelation to himself for the moment; Jareth had more than his fair share of burdens to shoulder right now. He tried his best to school his features into a more pleasant expression.

"I'm sure he's fine, perhaps he's just letting off some steam.." Nicholas offered. "Are you sure I can't make you anything?" Jareth shook his head. "Very well, then. You know where to find me if you need anything." "Thank you," Jareth said absently. He lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling as Nicholas shut the door behind him.

*****

Dawn's kitchen dissolved and the world around her reformed as if being seen through a haze. A mirage on the horizon was the closest thing she could compare it to. As the shifting realities settled, she looked around, trying to orient herself. The richly furnished, giant four-post bed she recognized, as well as the floor rugs and the low dresser against the far wall. She was definitely in Jareth's bedchambers, but what had happened? One of the giant windows lay in shards on the floor where someone had been trying to rearrange the pieces like a puzzle. Morning sunlight streamed in, reflecting brilliantly off of them like diamonds. The vision of Jareth's haunted face came back to her, and she paled, running to the window as she carefully stepped over the glass. Okay, maybe she shouldn't have left at that point in time, but Jareth wouldn't have…? She looked down towards the ground, but didn't see anything. It didn't help to lessen her worry- if anything had happened, they wouldn't have left him there.

Jareth wouldn't have taken his own life, would he? She thought not, but she _had_ to find someone. She hugged the jar she still held to her chest, and walked out the door in search of someone.

She hoped she could find her way through the castle still, after all these weeks. She walked past a giant tapestry on the wall- one of a beautifully pale, slender woman in a green dress- and recognized it. She had walked past it numerous times before, and always wondered who she was. The tapestry had always given her a feeling of security, and warmth; like having a trusted friend around. Dawn gave the tapestry one last glance, then turned the corner and continued down another hallway.

*****

Nicholas stirred the ingredients in the bowl together, then poured the concoction into a baking tin. Ignoring the whoosh of heat, he carefully opened the wood oven doors, and set the pan on the giant stone inside. If Jareth wasn't in the mood to eat, that was fine, but Nicholas was a chef, and he felt useless waiting around the castle. He had to do _something_, and cooking was what he did best. He looked at the row of hourglasses lined upon the counter and flipped the third one from the left; forty-five minutes to wait. He gathered up all of his dirty bowls and utensils, and carried them to the stone sink. He worked the pump handle and let it fill, then began to scrub them.

He heard the soft scrape of wary footsteps on stone in the hallway and sighed. "You know very well that cheesecake is not for you, and that you're not allowed in this section of the castle!" He set the pan down in the sink to soak and strode towards the kitchen door. "You get back to your section or I'll let Jareth know you're sneaking arou-" he stuck his head out the door and paused.

"Dawn?" he asked, surprised to see her standing in the hallway. She nodded, and rushed to give him a hug. "What's going on? Is Jareth okay? Where is he?" she asked.

"He's as well as can be expected. He was in his room last time I saw him," he answered. "What are you doing here?" he asked softly, noticing the jar she clutched.

"Adair showed up on my doorstep, and-"

Nicholas grabbed her arm to interrupt. "You saw Adair?"

She nodded. "I found him passed out on the floor of my kitchen; his arm was broken, I think. You mean he's not here?"

"No, we haven't seen him since he left to go Above. How long ago was this?" he asked. Adair apparently hadn't brought her here, Nicholas thought disappointedly.

Dawn made a face. "I'm not really sure- time is different here. I found him last night, and he woke and left early this morning. It was later in the evening by the time I worked up the courage to try to come here. He left me with a crystal."

Nicholas motioned her down the hallway. "Let's find Jareth." Dawn nodded and followed him. "So.. Are you coming back to stay?" Nicholas asked hopefully, pointing to the jar he knew held Heather's ashes.

"I, uh, I'm not sure. Adair showed up with this crazy idea that we could bring Heather back." Nicholas raised an eyebrow at her questioningly. "I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but I know so little about your world, about magic.. I figured it wouldn't hurt to try." She bit her lip, then looked at Nicholas worriedly. "Do you think Adair is okay?"

Nicholas shook his head. "I don't know. We expected him back hours ago; Jareth had put a lock of sorts on the magic to try to keep Adair from going Above. It backfired, and when Adair left, we had no way of getting to him."

Dawn lowered her voice and looked at Nicholas. "He said something about Jareth banishing him if he found him. Do you think he would go into hiding?" She hadn't been here in weeks, who knew what could have happened in that time span.

Nicholas shook his head. "No.. Jareth will be relieved if we find Adair well and whole. Then he'll be mad, but he'd fight fiercely to protect his brother. He is King of this land, but even he has his own priorities." He pointed down a hallway. "Let's try his bedroom first."

"I just came from there, the room was empty. What happened to his window?"

"I think that's how Adair got his broken arm," Nicholas admitted. "Jareth caught him red-handed, stealing his pendant and a crystal. Adair tried to transform and go out the window, and Jareth tried to stop him. Adair crashed through the window. We've been trying to repiece it so we can restore it, but haven't finished collecting all the shards."

Dawn nodded, not entirely sure what he meant. They stopped in the door long enough to confirm that Jareth was not in there, then kept walking.

*****

Jareth sat cross-legged on the floor of Adair's new room, searching through the books his brother had been reading during his recovery. He was looking for any clues as to what Adair had been trying to tell him the night Jareth informed him about the lock he'd placed on the magic Underground. Jareth ran a hand through his hair in frustration and tossed _The Third Millennia History of the Underground_ on top of the pile of books he'd already gone through. He leaned over and picked up _Rare and Unusual Bird Species_, and flipped through the pictures, one at a time, and compared them to the remaining half of the charred red feather he had.

He finished looking through the book and leaned back, puzzled. Jareth did not recognize the feather from any bird Aboveground or Underground, and had been hoping to find the answer in this book. It simply wasn't a bird from either realm. Jareth frowned. What on earth had the girl been trying to turn into?

Jareth cocked his head and listened as he discerned footsteps in the hallway. Nicholas must be coming to check up on him again. His eyebrows arched in surprise as he realized there were two sets of footsteps, and that the second set was not goblin in origin. Wondering if perhaps Nicholas had found Adair, he quickly got to his feet and ran to the bedroom door, pulling it open just as the older man knocked. Startled, Jareth nearly jumped at seeing Dawn standing next to Nicholas.

"Dawn?" he exclaimed, wondering what she was doing there, and at the same time not caring what she was doing, just grateful she was back.

Dawn could tell that Jareth clearly wanted to give her a hug, but was restraining himself, unsure of how to treat her because the last time he had seen her, she had demanded he send her home. She set the jar down at her feet and stepped forward, arms open. His face lit up and he swept her up in a fierce hug, which she wholeheartedly returned.

"We've missed you so much," he whispered in her ear before letting her go. He looked between her and Nicholas. "Have you found Adair?" he asked. Afraid of what her answer might be, he could not yet bear to ask if Dawn was here to stay or not. The crestfallen look on Nicholas's face answered his question.

"No. But he at least made it Above then returned." They quickly filled Jareth in about Adair's visit to Dawn's house, then she told both men about Adair's theory that Heather had been transforming to save him and survive the fire.

"A phoenix," Jareth said thoughtfully. "Well, it would explain why I can't find out what she had been changing into." He felt Dawn's eyes on him, a hopeful expression on her face. "I do not know if burning the last feather would bring her back," he admitted and her face fell, "but I will admit it makes sense. It is definitely worth trying."

He looked at Dawn. "However, I recommend we try to find Adair first, if possible. If you say he left Above, then he must be here somewhere. I know he is not within the immediate area- I would have felt his presence- but I do not know if he is in the outlands or perhaps even as far as the borderlands. I think that by now, if he were able to make his way back to the castle, he would have. I have a feeling that every minute counts."

Nicholas and Dawn both nodded.

"Let's bring him home."

*****

More to come soon. Congrats to all of you who guessed that Heather may be trying to transform into a phoenix!


	29. The Sorrow of Loss

Sorry for the last chapter being so short. It was just one of those chapters you need to get you from point A to point B in a story. *shrug* This one's better, I promise.  
Author's Warning: Hope you have some Kleenex nearby.

Andrea

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Chapter 29: The Sorrow of Loss

Jareth sent four goblins off, one in each direction, to the nearest human or Fae establishment to spread the word about the search for Adair. Dawn noticed that he omitted any information regarding the theft of his pendant and crystal, as well as the fact that Adair had ventured Above, and had only mentioned that the man was missing and could be unconscious or injured.

As soon as the goblins were on their way, the trio saddled four horses, packed some supplies, and left the castle. Jareth admitted that he did not know which direction Adair would have been more likely to arrive from, if any, so they rode for hours, working their way in an ever-growing spiral away from the castle. From time to time Dawn heard the sounds of other horses and riders in the distance, so she knew other people had joined in the search.

Dawn had not realized Jareth oversaw so much land- they'd been riding for the better part of the day and still neither man announced that they had reached the kingdom's edge. Once past the hedges and the brick-walled labyrinth, the terrain had shifted from scraggly, sand-covered hills to golden colored prairie, then had leveled out into lush green fields dotted by small villages. Jareth stopped to talk to villagers in each small town, and each town reported that they had scanned their surrounding area and had found no trace of Adair. The hope that they would find him alive seemed to be shrinking with each step of the horse's hooves.

By sundown on the first day of searching they were forced to return to the castle. The lush green fields were so dense that unless they literally stepped on Adair, they would not see him in the dark. They returned at sunup to the same field and continued their expanding spiral search in the growing heat, but had no better luck on the second day.

By the third day, the rich fields had changed into rock-strewn, open scrubland. There were no trees to block the riders from the harsh sun that seemed to burn down on them. Jareth changed into an owl and flew high above the four horses, using his sharp eyes to search the barren land for Adair, but he simply was not there. At sundown they returned to the castle, crestfallen and drained, hope fading fast.

That night, Dawn wearily curled up in her bed, grateful for the rest. Three solid days of horseback riding was killing her body. Even after a hot soak in the tub, her thighs and back hurt the most they ever had in her life. But it would all be worth it, if they could find Adair.

She sighed and rolled over in bed, looking at the jar that sat on the nightstand. If they couldn't find Adair.. and Heather couldn't be saved.. she just didn't know what she would do. Experiencing heartache of such a soul-killing degree the first time nearly destroyed her, she didn't think she would be able to survive if she had to go through it again.

She rolled over and tried not to let the blackness she felt in her spirit overcome her.

*****

Early the next morning they set out again on their search. The villagers they stopped to talk to all verified that they had searched the area.

"After the heat we've had lately.." one man told Jareth when they stopped to water the horses, "and four days of being exposed to the elements, Adair is as good as-"

Jareth shot him a look that nearly made the man wither where he stood. He bit back any remaining words he would have said as Jareth looked quickly to Dawn. She looked down at her hands on the horn of the saddle, but Jareth could tell she'd heard the man and was trying to hold things together.

"Right," Jareth said as he swung up on his horse. "Let's get moving then."

*****

The sun was already setting when the last of the scrub landscape changed quite abruptly to dense forest. Jareth reined in his horse and looked at Dawn and Nicholas.

"It's dark enough we should be turning back," Jareth told them. Dawn and Nicholas both nodded glumly as they had for the past three nights when Jareth declared the search over for the day. "However I think we're running out of time if we are going to find him." Dawn jerked her head up at Jareth's words, hope in her eyes that they were going to continue searching. One corner of Nicholas's mouth tugged up in a smile.

"We can cover more ground if we keep on horseback," Jareth said as he rummaged in the supply pack the fourth horse carried, "however riding at night is going to be more dangerous- the horses aren't as surefooted over the tree roots and undergrowth. We also run the risk of not seeing Adair if we're mounted." He found some cloth-wrapped, oil soaked torches and lit them, passing them around. The flickering light threw harsh shadows over his face. "We can dismount and lead the horses, but it'll be slower going on foot. What do you think?"

Dawn and Nicholas looked at each other. Dawn shrugged; she didn't normally ride horses so she couldn't really say which would be better. Nicholas scratched his chin in thought.

"I think going slower but doing a thorough search is better than covering more ground and potentially missing something. If we end up having to double back, we're just wasting time."

Jareth nodded and they dismounted, leading their horses. As they moved further into the woods, it became darker as the trees grew closer together, and the branches overhead blocked the last remnants of sunlight. By the time they lost sight of the edge of the woodline, it was completely dark. Their torches did little to illuminate the surrounding blackness. Once full night fell, it grew cold. Dawn wished she would have brought a coat or something.

For several moments, Dawn thought she heard whispering among the shadowy trees. She stopped walking to listen, but every time she turned towards the source of the sounds, they were gone. Neither man seemed to notice so she figured it must be her imagination playing tricks on her. She shrugged and continued walking, her eyes raking the ground for any sign of Adair. Every time she saw a lighter shape on the ground, her heart would leap and she would run towards it, only to be disappointed as it would invariably turn out to be a fallen birch log or some other debris.

As they walked on, Jareth and Nicholas scanned the ground around them, silent. Movement caught Dawn's eye and she looked up to see a flickering ahead of them. It looked like fire showing through the tree branches. Actually, it looked like fire _in_ the trees. Startled, Dawn stared as two, three, five more spots of fire appeared in the distance. As she watched, the spots of light grew larger, as if coming nearer. They were clearly moving too- jumping and arcing from branch to branch.

"Um.. Guys?" she said, a slight edge of alarm in her voice. Jareth and Nicholas both looked up at her. "What are those?"

They followed to where she was pointing and stood for a moment. As the troop of shapes danced and moved closer, it became apparent that they were humanoid forms. Jareth was the first to find his voice.

"Well, I'll be a goblin's uncle.." he breathed. "They're Fierys. I've never seen them at night." He turned to Dawn. "Normally, during the day, when they are storing energy, they just look sort of furry. Or feathery? But at night all of that energy is burned off, used to sustain their fire. They're fire elementals, but it's not a fire that will burn other objects. They're really unique creatures."

"Will they hurt us?" Dawn asked, though she was pretty sure they wouldn't, or both men wouldn't still be standing there, just staring at them.

Jareth shook his head. "They're not generally dangerous, though like the goblins they can get carried away if you let them. I wonder what they're doing?"

"I'd say they're coming here," Nicholas offered. They were headed straight for the trio.

Sure enough, the blazing figures stopped in the tree branches directly above them. Having never seen a Fiery before, Dawn looked up to find several beings, each about the size of a young child. They all sported a skinny tail with a larger tuft of flame on the end, and their whole body was a glowing inferno, except for their eyes, which were liquid black pits. Dawn thought they looked terrifying.

The largest figure grabbed a tree branch in one hand and leaned towards them at a precarious angle. It pointed at Dawn, then made a beckoning motion with its finger. Dawn looked at Jareth and when he nodded, she reluctantly moved a single step closer towards the creatures. She jumped when the largest figure jumped to a tree branch some fifteen feet away, and as the other Fierys followed suit, it repeated the gesture. She stepped forward again and the leader leapt towards another tree branch.

"It wants us to follow," Dawn said, clearly understanding what the creature intended. "They must have found something. Come on," she said, and torch held high, she took the lead.

They followed the leaping figures, moving slowly through the darkness so the horses could keep their footing over the uneven terrain. Dawn numbly wondered what they would find once the Fierys stopped. She almost dreaded the end of their search, but while Adair was still unaccounted for there was still the small hope that he was alive. But if the creatures had found him... She had heard the man in the last village they had stopped at- it was just too many days out in the heat, too much exposure, to expect that Adair was still alive. She wasn't sure if she should keep the small remaining bit of hope she still had left alive, or begin to prepare herself for what they were likely to find. She quickly glanced behind her at Jareth, and at Nicholas behind him. Both had their heads down, paying attention to where they walked, but the look on their faces clearly said they had already begun to steel themselves for the final blow of finding Adair's body.

She turned back to follow the Fierys and fought back the tears that stung at the corners of her eyes. She felt like she was in a funeral procession, and the memory of both her mother's and father's memorial services sprang to mind. Just as she had for her father's funeral, she had insisted on being one of the pallbearers for her mother. She had felt like it was the least, and the last thing she could do for them, to carry them to their final resting place. For all the times they had carried her to bed as a child when she'd stayed up too late past her bedtime. But this time there was no heavy casket to carry, just the burden of a heavy heart.

She remembered the first time she had met Adair, and wondered now how she ever could have doubted him. She thought about Heather, their beautiful little girl, and hoped that Adair hadn't sacrificed his life for no reason. He had told her that he was nearly recovered, but obviously something had happened, or he would have returned to the castle. Why hadn't he returned? What could have happened to him?

Jareth followed along behind Dawn, fighting to keep his composure together for both Nicholas and Dawn's sakes. He knew finding his brother's body was going to be painful enough, but he would have to wait until they were safely back at the castle before he could allow himself the luxury of mourning Adair. He knew Dawn had no idea where she was in his kingdom, and though Jareth was sure that Nicholas could eventually find his way back to the castle in the dark, no one knew the land, and it's dangers, better than him. Their safety was his first priority. He would never forgive himself if something happened to either Dawn or Nicholas because of him. Jareth knew that before everything was over with he was going to have to deal with a good amount of guilt over his brother's death. He had refused to hear Adair out when he wanted to approach Dawn, and by doing so, Jareth had driven the man to extreme lengths. He had driven the man to his death. He would have given anything to have Adair back in his life, to be able to tell him he was sorry for not listening to him, he was sorry for taking such great measures to keep him from going Above.

Dawn stopped suddenly as she realized that the lead Fiery had stopped a few feet in front of her, and was pointing to the ground. Dropping her horse's reins, she stepped forward and picked up the object.

Jareth's crystal.

She turned and handed it to him, and the heartrending look on his face proved that he was already mourning the loss of his brother. She knew that finding the crystal out here in the woods was the turning point. Adair wouldn't have left it, knowing how important it would be to Jareth now that he had put a lock on the magic Underground. Nicholas's eyes squeezed shut in pain, and he put his hand on Jareth's shoulder in a comforting gesture. They heard a twig snap and all three of them turned to look at the lead Fiery as he shifted uncomfortably. He beckoned them on. There was still more.

They continued on another fifty feet or so, and Dawn saw the pale, sprawled form that was Adair before the lead Fiery even stopped to point towards his figure. She cried out and ran forward, kneeling beside Adair. She heard Jareth and Nicholas crashing through the underbrush right behind her.

As one, their breath caught and they were silent as they looked down at the horrific mess that was Adair. The man was sprawled face up in the grass and fallen leaves like a broken, ghastly mockery of a snow angel. His limbs were stretched out, one arm laid at an angle that wasn't physically possible unless it was broken. Though his face was turned away from where they stood, Dawn could tell his eyes were closed. Clotted blood matted the hair on the back of his head, and a dried, rusty-colored pool had formed around his head and shoulders on the ground. The right side of his face and most of his upper body was covered in bruises. Every inch of him that wasn't clothed was covered in scratches and cuts, large and small.

"He must have changed back and fallen through the trees," she heard Jareth say.

Dawn knew there was no way a person could survive that. The ground beneath her swam and Dawn realized she was crying when she felt a tear fall on her cheek. She jumped when she felt Jareth's hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face him. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was red and splotchy in the harsh light of their torches.

"At least we have finally found him," he told her quietly, his voice breaking with emotion as he squeezed her hand. Dawn nodded, tears falling down her cheeks as she squeezed his back, then she lost her composure, stood, and flung her arms around Jareth's neck. He hugged her back with a fierceness she knew was born of his own grief. Nicholas stepped forward and put his arms around them both, pulling the pair to his chest in an embrace. And so they stood for a while, mourning a friend, a son, a father, a brother.

Eventually, as one, they turned to face the task of returning the Adair to the castle.

"I'll get the horses," Nicholas said, and walked over to where they had been left standing. Jareth turned to Dawn.

"I'll help him get the supplies down. I had a makeshift stretcher wrapped up on one of the saddles, we can put him on that and secure him in place with some bandages. It's the best we can do short of positioning him across a saddle." He turned to leave but Dawn caught his arm.

"No. Let me.." she took a deep breath. "Let me carry him. If you can lead my horse out of the forest, I'll sit in the saddle and hold him in my lap. It's the least I can do for him."

Jareth met her gaze for a moment, then finally nodded. "Let me bring your horse up for you." He turned and walked over to help Nicholas with the horses.

Dawn turned back to Adair's sprawled form and bit back a sob. She hunched down and gently brushed some of his long hair away from his face and forehead. "I'm so sorry.." she whispered to him. "But I just know you've saved our little girl's life," she said, though even she thought it sounded like she was trying to make it true by saying it. She had no clue if it would be possible to bring Heather back or not, but it seemed the right thing to say. It seemed right to acknowledge his sacrifice in some way.

Tears blurring her vision, Dawn gently turned his chin so he was facing her, bent down, and gave him a kiss on the lips. She was surprised they were still so soft. She looked up and saw that he had something clutched in his hand. She reached across him and worked his fingers open. It was Jareth's necklace. She looked back at Jareth and Nicholas, both busy moving the supplies from Dawn's horse's saddle to the saddle of the fourth horse they had brought. Shrugging, she looped the cord up over her head. She'd give it to Jareth later.

She hunched back over his head and spoke to him, spoke of everything and nothing, and ran her hands through the part of his hair that wasn't matted with blood. She spoke and she ran her thumbs across his eyebrows, smoothing over the unruly hairs. She spoke and ran her finger across his lips, wishing for nothing more than that he would sit up, tell her he must have fallen asleep, and give her a kiss. Jareth's pendant dangled in front of his mouth as she gently caressed his lips. Just one kiss, what she wouldn't give for just one more-

She stared at the pendant dangling from her neck. It seemed that one of the shiny, curved pieces across the bottom had just turned, well, dull looking. She picked up the pendant in one hand and brought it to her face. Nothing was there now, it was shiny again, even in the dim light. She let go of it and continued her monologue to Adair.

"And I shouldn't have ever doubted you, I should have known that you would come back as soon as you were-" She stared at the pendant again. It just changed again. She picked it up in her hand but did not bring it closer to her face this time. Instead, she sat and watched it.

There.

Something was definitely changing the appearance of the otherwise smooth, polished metal. She stared and watched as it happened a few more times over the course of a minute or so. It almost looked fogged over, like a bathroom mirror would do when you got out of a hot shower.

"What on earth?" she said to herself, then raised her voice, turning to face behind her. "Jareth, I found your pendant. Hey, does it change-" She stopped and looked down at Adair suddenly. "Oooh!"

"What?" Jareth called from over by the horses. Both Nicholas and he had stopped their packing to look over at her.

"Ooh! Come here quick!" She put her fingers to Adair's neck, feeling for a pulse. "I think Adair's still alive!"

*****

Anyone get through that with dry eyes? Come on, tell the truth…

Reviews are welcomed.


	30. Waking from the Nightmare

Back finally with a new chapter! Yes, I'm aliiiiiiiiive! Now is Adair? Hmm?

Please read and review. :)

* * *

Chapter 30: Waking from the Nightmare

Red and black flashes- bright flickering light, as seen through closed eyelids.

And heat. Lots of heat.

Was he dead? Was this what it felt like to be dead?

No, he thought the feeling of pain would go away if you were dead.

The heat and flickers of light went away and an unknown amount of time passed. Eventually more flickers returned. He heard a voice.

Something warm touched his.. his forehead, yes that's what it was called. A hand, his tired brain told him. That's what he felt.

Something brushed his lips and his cheek.

More blackness, and an unknown amount of time.

He felt a hand on his neck, checking for a pulse.

He heard more voices, but could not make out what they were saying.

He felt more hands- strong hands- lift him, he felt like he was momentarily floating, and then he felt different hands hold him. He thought he smelled a waft of lilac perfume. The hands that held him brought him close and he felt soft lips touch his forehead. The corners of his mouth pulled up in a quirk of a smile and he nuzzled deeper into the soft warmth, a familiar rocking motion quickly lulling him back into unconsciousness.

* * *

It was nearly a week before Adair opened his eyes to see Jareth, sprawled in an upholstered armchair, asleep by his bed. It took Adair nearly another hour before he finally managed to sit up, the waves of nausea and dizziness slowing him down.

Once he was upright, he looked around the room, disoriented. Where was he?

He wasn't in his room, he recalled. These were his new quarters. He had had to move into a new room after the fire..

Memory of the past few weeks rushed back at him like a physical blow, causing him to lean precariously on the bed as he took the hit. Instinctively, he put his arm out to steady himself and cried out, barely able to handle the pain as he unintentionally put the weight on his broken arm. Jareth heard him and jerked awake, rushing to the bed to steady him.

"Lay down," he instructed, and overcome with pain and dizziness, Adair was only too willing to comply. He lay gasping for a few moments until the pain subsided.

"Wow," Adair said, looking over his brother's wrinkled and stained clothes. It was apparent he had not bathed or changed clothes in several days. "You look like crap."

Jareth laughed. "It must run in the family," he replied, and gestured to Adair. He handed him a small mirror and Adair's eyes widened at the fading bruises and cuts that were still visible.

"You looked much worse when we found you. We all thought you were dead."

"How long have I been out?" Adair asked. It was light outside now, and he remembered seeing at least one starlit sky as he lay in the woods, so he knew he had been unconscious for at least a day.

"Well, we brought you here to the castle a week ago, but we searched for you for four days before that, so somewhere around eleven days? I don't know when you had crossed back over, so it may be closer to twelve. A troupe of Fierys found you in their forest, found us where we were searching, and led us the rest of the way through the woods to you."

"That long? Wow. Did I go through the Withdrawls again?"

Jareth shook his head.

"No, I think you've been out this long mostly from the blood loss. There was quite a pool on the ground when we found you. We had to send for a doctor to help me do blood transfusions for the first three days you were back."

He reached down into a large leather bag by Adair's nightstand and took out a small jar of white colored pills. He uncorked the top, and shook three out into his hand.

"Here," Jareth said, helping Adair to sit up again. He handed Adair the pills and a glass of water from the nightstand. "No sense in giving the medicine to you intravenously if you're awake to swallow pills now. I'm sure the doctor has been needling you enough."

Adair nodded, and obediently swallowed the pills, washing it down with water, then allowed Jareth to help him lay back again. He noticed the pendant once again in it's rightful place around his brother's neck. He was glad they found it, if nothing else.

"You aren't going to banish me, are you?" He asked his older brother, eyes wide. After as many times as he had disobeyed him, Adair wouldn't blame him for doing so.

Jareth shook his head.

"The Council doesn't know of your little adventure, and I have no intention of telling them, as long as this is the_ last _time you pull such a stunt," Jareth smiled a bit as he sat back in his chair, pulling it closer to the bed. "I think that your broken arm is punishment enough."

Adair grimaced, and Jareth laughed.

"I am sorry about that, by the way." Jareth looked at Adair as he tried to flex his cast arm. "I just acted, I didn't think," he said seriously. "I nearly killed you. I am sorry." Eyes downcast, Adair nodded.

"It's okay, I should have listened to you anyways."

Jareth nodded. "But I can see why you didn't though," he admitted. "Besides, if you hadn't disobeyed me and returned Above, Dawn wouldn't have come back."

Adair's eyes lit up and he struggled to sit up in bed. "She came? She's here?"

Jareth pushed him back down against the pillows. "For now, at least, yes. All three of us have been rotating shifts in here to keep an eye on you. She left a few hours ago to finally go get some sleep. Nicholas is already up in the kitchen, preparing things for today." Adair nodded, then sat quietly for a moment, thinking.

"If Dawn returned, did she bring Heather's remains with her?" he asked softly.

Jareth nodded. "Yes, but before you ask, we haven't tried to reunite the feather with the ashes yet." Adair looked crestfallen. "We wanted to concentrate on finding you first, then making sure you would live, much less be okay. We thought that if there was a chance it would work, you should be there for it."

Adair nodded, clearly a little upset that Heather wouldn't be there to greet him. At least yet, possibly. He brightened a little as he tried to sit up again.

"Can you take me to go see Dawn then?"

Jareth pushed him back down in bed.

"She's only been sleeping about three hours now, but I think she'd be willing to wake up for this." He made two crystals, then blew them out the bedroom door, sending them floating on to Dawn and Nicholas.

* * *

Dawn met Nicholas climbing the stairs towards Adair's new room, having also been summoned, and unsure of what they might find, they entered the room together. When she saw that Adair was conscious, Dawn ran across the room and gave him a huge hug, tears brimming her eyes.

"I'm so glad you're awake, Adair. We all thought you were dead."

Adair nodded. "That's what Jareth was just telling me. I'm glad to be back."

Dawn moved aside as Nicholas also hugged Adair, mumbling something about "my boy" as he did.

They all stared at Adair.

"So I'm back, I'm awake. Can we test my theory now?"

Jareth, Nicholas, and Dawn stared at each other.

* * *

As he was still a bit unbalanced on his feet, Jareth and Nicholas both helped support Adair as the foursome made their way to Adair's old bedroom.

"Do you really think this is necessary?" Jareth asked him.

"It probably won't matter, but I'd rather not chance it though." Adair said through gritted teeth. He was having a much harder time walking normally then he had thought he would, and every time he leaned slightly towards the left, Jareth jumped to support him, wrenching his broken arm painfully.

They finally arrived at Adair's old bedroom, and Dawn quickly ran forward, shifting the jar of ashes she was carrying to her other arm, to open the door for the three men. They carefully set Adair down on the ruined bed, the only thing left in the room that would really support him, and as one they turned to stare at him.

"What are you all staring- Oh, right, it was my theory, wasn't it?" Adair ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Well, I'm not sure if it will work, but we have to at least try don't we?" He shifted on the bed.

"Dawn, I need you to put Heather's ashes here on the bed- I don't know if we have to do this in the same spot that she- that it happened or not, but I want to try to keep as many things consistent as we can."

Dawn stepped forward and solemnly poured the ashes onto the ruined bed.

"Jareth," Adair looked next at his older brother. "I believe you have the remaining feather?"

Jareth nodded, stepped forward, and placed the feather atop the ashes.

"And, if no one objects…" Adair looked around uncomfortably at the others. "I'd like to be the one to light the feather."

Everyone immediately objected.

"You'll be wasting what little strength you have, lighting it magically.." Jareth protested.

Dawn rounded on Adair next. "If you think I'm going to sit by your bed for another week solid you've got another thing coming. Let Jareth or Nicholas do it.."

Nicholas nodded. "Look Adair, we all understand how important this is for you-"

"No! You don't!" Adair cut them all off mid-sentence, momentarily silencing them. "Look," he continued in a more composed voice, "I am alive because that girl gave her life to save me." He looked at each of them in turn. "I think it is the least I can do, to try and return the favor, if it will bring her back."

Nicholas slowly nodded his agreement, gesturing towards the feather with one hand, and slowly Dawn shook her head yes, tears rimming her eyes even as she did so.

As one, they turned to look at Jareth, who had yet to grand his consent. He met his brother's unyielding gaze for several moments, as if evaluating him.

"You're too weak to create a magic-generated fire on your own," he said stubbornly. He saw Adair open his mouth to disagree and Jareth raised one hand, cutting him off before he could argue.

"I am your King as well as your brother, Adair." He said, pointing a finger sternly at his younger brother. "I said you are too weak because you _are_ too weak." He met his brother's eyes for a few moments longer before a small ghost of a smile lifted the corner of Jareth's mouth.

"So you will simply require some assistance," Jareth said serenely, as he lifted his crescent pendant over his head and held it out on his open palm.

Astonished, Adair merely stared at his brother for a moment before finding his voice.

"Really?" He looked from Jareth to the pendant, still proffered in his open palm, and back again. "You'll really let me use it?"

Jareth met his gaze evenly and extended his palm, as if he were going to shake hands. Grinning, Adair shook his hand, taking the pendant as he did so. He draped it around his neck and held his fingers above the feather, concentrating.

Everyone gasped as the top of the feather suddenly caught fire, and then watched as it seemed to smolder down at an agonizingly slow pace. Everyone held their breath, waiting, as the feather burned down to the last orange ember. The last little wisp of gray smoke pirouetted up from this new, tiny pile of ashes, then everything was still.

Dawn was holding her breath for so long as she stared at the last cooled ember that she thought she might pass out. She finally took a breath.

"How long should this take?" she asked the three men, a note of worry in her voice.

Jareth shook his head. "I shouldn't think very long." He also sounded worried.

Adair nodded. "I would have thought that as soon as the feather was burned and reunited with the remaining ashes it would have worked." He saw the worried look on Dawn's face and quickly added, "we'll give it a few more minutes though."

The four stood, watching the two piles of ashes intently, for several more minutes. Nothing happened.

Adair clasped Dawn's hand in support as they waited several more minutes.

Still, nothing happened. Everyone jumped when Nicholas cleared his throat and looked around at them.

"I hate to voice it out loud," he began miserably, "but it appears as if we may have been wrong." A tear dropped down his cheek to make a dark spot on his shirt.

"No," Adair started feebly, looking around at the others. "No, we.. we just have to wait a little longer." He felt a pressure on his hand and looked at Dawn, her eyes blurry with tears, shaking her head.

"We tried," she said quietly as she looked at Jareth, Adair, and Nicholas each in turn, tears streaming down her face now. "Thank you for trying."

She turned and buried her face in Adair's shoulder, crying where she stood. He sadly wrapped her in his arms, and Jareth and Nicholas both embraced Dawn, their grief shared as one. Jareth had found one of Dawn's hands and squeezed it, trying to offer whatever comfort he could to her. He could think of nothing to say that would ease her heart's burden, so he just stood, rubbing his finger over Dawn's nails as he held her hand while she cried.

The four of them stood for some time, just seeking and finding comfort in each other's presence.

"Thank you," Dawn said sometime later to the three men as she wiped the tears from her eyes with one hand. She smiled weakly at Jareth as she squeezed his hand again, her fingernail digging into his palm slightly.

Without warning, Jareth gasped and jerked upright from his hunched position where he had been holding Dawn. Shock and hesitation showed on his face.

"Jareth?" Dawn asked, then shook his shoulder slightly when he did not answer.

"Jareth, what's wrong?"

He looked around at their faces, unseeing, as thoughts were flying rapidly through his mind. Seeming to make up his mind, his eyes came into focus as he looked at the three faces peering worriedly at him.

"I need that," he said to Adair as he pointed at his pendant, still hanging around his brother's neck. Adair took it off and handed it to him. "I'll be right back," Jareth stammered, then ran out the door.

They could hear his footsteps as he ran down the hallway at what had to be breakneck speed.

"Where do you think he is going?" Adair asked anxiously.

* * *

Jareth flew down the hallway, taking turns and corners at speeds that were terribly dangerous. He knew he could break his neck if he slid wrong on the stone floors, but he could not seem to stop himself.

He finally reached the heavy doors to his bedchambers and flung them open, coming to a sliding stop on the furs that dotted the floor in his room. He ran across the room to his bureau, shoved his pendant into the recessed area of the wood and turned it, triggering the locking mechanism.

He yanked open the bottom drawer and picked up the small wooden box that held the precious crystal ball that Sarah had looked into so many years ago. He passed his hand over the box, opening it, then picked up the crystal, tossing it negligently over his shoulder to land on the bed behind him. He turned the empty box upside down, then aggravated, dropped it to the floor when nothing else fell out from within. He searched through the random clutter that had accumulated in the drawer over the years, then abandoned his search in frustration.

He turned, his gaze raking the room quickly. His eyes landed on the small night stand near his bed. He never kept much in there, but..

He ran across the room, rolled across the bed, then gracelessly fell onto the floor as his momentum (and the sliding bedcovers) took him too far. He quickly stood, stepped over the crystal which had fallen also, and pulled open the one small drawer the nightstand had.

With the gentleness one might hold a newborn with, he reached inside the drawer and pulled out what he sought.

A small, copper button that read "Oshkosh."

* * *

Dawn, Adair, and Nicholas had apparently pulled themselves together by the time Jareth returned to the room because they were preparing to gather Heather's ashes once again into the glass container they had been previously kept.

"Wait!" Jareth commanded as he ran back into the bedroom, winded. As he clutched at the stitch in his side, he gently placed the button on top of the pile of ash.

The four of them stared at the gray pile, but nothing happened. Jareth sighed heavily, still gasping for air as he held the stitch in his side.

"I'm sorry, Dawn, I thought that would have worked."

"What was it?" Dawn asked, staring at Jareth as if still trying to work out if he'd gone mad or not.

"It was the button from Heather's blue jeans the day it happened," he gasped. "I thought we might have needed to have that also."

Dawn, Adair, and Nicholas stared at Jareth for such a long moment that he finally blurted out "I was reminded of it when Dawn's fingernail bit into my palm a little. The day Heather.. that day I found the button and I clenched it in my hand so hard it did the same thing."

He hung his head again. "I'm sorry Dawn, I really thought that would work."

She stepped forward to give him a hug. "It's okay-" she began, then was cut off by Nicholas's gasp and Adair's hand clutching at her arm.

They turned to face the ruined bed once more, and saw that the button had melted into a glowing orange pile of metal where it lay. As they watched, the pile of ashes seemed to combust, fall in upon itself then grow outward, glowing bright orange from the reawakening embers. Tongues of flame suddenly erupted from the mound, growing several feet tall so quickly that everyone was forced to take a step back. Burning as if someone had fed gasoline to the fire, the fire grew quickly, burning so radiant a white color that everyone was forced to close their eyes momentarily against the light.

"Oh! Look!"

They all opened their eyes again; the flames had died down slightly and from the depth of the fire, a bird-like form was emerging, molded from the flames themselves. Dawn was forcibly reminded of the Fiery creatures they had seen burning in the trees the night that they found Adair; made entirely of fire, but not consumed by it.

As they watched, the fire died away and a brilliantly plumed bird was left standing on the ruined bed, colored with the richest reds, deep golds, and the brightest, purest copper color they had ever seen.

They watched as, with a musical sounding cry, the bird's feathers started to withdraw into it's skin as it grew larger and it's shape started to morph. Within moments, the feathers had completely disappeared, and there was a blond-haired, ash-smudged girl sitting on the bed.

Heather looked around the fire-ruined room, to Adair and her mother staring down at her, to Jareth and Nicholas standing next to them, their mouths all hanging open.

"I did it!" she exclaimed happily.

* * *

So what did we think? Did you see that coming or were you surprised? More to come still. ;)


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